


Hounds of Justice

by thatcrazywriterley



Category: Real Person Fiction, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, Past Child Abuse, Real person fanfiction - Freeform, Romance, Trigger Warning: Panic, Trigger warning: child abuse, trigger warning: PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 86
Words: 115,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazywriterley/pseuds/thatcrazywriterley
Summary: Trying something new, Stephanie McMahon brings up female superstar Llane Black and pairs her with Dean Ambrose for a series of mixed matches. Adopted by the rest of The Shield, Llane makes herself at home in WWE and catches the eye of a certain Shield Brother.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

_(GIF Owned by rocknrollins on Tumblr)_

The noise was deafening. They didn’t tell you that at the Performance Center. It was a maniacal kind of noise, one that made your head buzz and the blood rush around your veins like some kind of drug. People were screaming—shouting, whooping, booing, cursing. The music blared louder than anything at Full Sail, the lights flashing in a way that almost made me dizzy.

From my vantage point, the arena looked packed to the rafters. Neon poster board signs and the iterant snaps of smartphone cameras. T-shirts bearing slogans, names, insignias—store bought and homemade. Little kids and grown adults. There were so many people.

My heart jumped into my throat. It was almost too hard to breathe. My limbs tingled. I bounced from one foot to the other, feeling the tight laces on my boots creak with each motion.

“You’ll do fantastic,” came a kind voice from my left. I glanced over and saw Bayley, her signature side pony a little mussed. There was a sheen of sweat along her face and she looked more than a little out of breath. “Seriously.”

I tried to smile, but thought I was going to vomit instead. “Easy for you to say,” I croaked.

Sasha strolled up and threw her arm around Bayley’s neck. The two of them shared a private grin before turning their attention to me. “Really. Steph is looking out for you. She’s got some pull with Vince when it comes to the women around here. And you couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

I couldn’t argue with them there. It was my debut match on the Raw brand. I’d been up on the main roster for a few weeks doing live events. At the last show, they’d done a mixed match series and I’d been paired with Dean Ambrose. He might be crazy in the ring—and sometimes out of it—but he was actually a really cool guy.

“I like the new gear, by the way,” Sasha added as she and Bayley headed off to the locker room to change.

Before, I’d wrestled in a pair of skin-tight olive colored pants and a black spandex crop top. Once they paired me up with Dean for the mixed match division, they changed up my look. I got to keep my boots with my name painted down the sides—Llane on the left and Black on the right—but they’d given me some denim short shorts and a slashed-up Hounds of Justice shirt to replace my old gear. Once, I’d wrestled with my black and red hair hanging loose. Now, they tied it up in a high ponytail.

It was more comfortable than the old gear, and somehow, I felt less exposed. 

A heavy arm swung around my shoulders and I was suddenly hit with the scent of cologne and ink. I turned and caught sight of Dean’s grinning face. “Nice look, Llane. I’d have picked a dirty deeds shirt, but…”

I grinned even though the nerves were starting to get the best of me. “Have you heard the news?”

He jerked his head, cracking his neck in a way that made me cringe. It was fascinating to watch them go from their real selves to their in-ring persona. The backstage version of Dean morphed into the Lunatic Fringe right in front of me.

“Yep,” he said, his voice going a little gravelly. “Stick with us, kid. You’ll go places.”

Before we could say anything else, the match producer signaled that Dean’s music was about to start. I watched as he psyched himself up and stalked through the curtain.

I dropped my chin to my chest, took a deep breath, and shook out my arms. Dean’s music faded out and the opening riff of mine hit. I bounced a few times and pushed through the curtain. The cacophony hit my ears, nearly shoving me back behind the screen. I let out a scream as I ran out to the main stage.

Dean waited at the edge of the ramp, glaring at the ring. Our opponents for the night were Alicia Fox and Elias. I almost wanted to laugh, but the anxiety of my first televised match on Raw was enough to keep me grounded.

That heavy arm went back around my neck as we made our way down to the ring. We were maybe halfway down when my music faded, only to be replaced with the crackling static of a military radio.

“Sierra, Hotel…” The crowd lost it. Half of their attention turned to the upper balcony on the left of the ring. Seth and Roman appeared in the spotlight, pointing down to where Dean and I stood.

"Surprise,” Dean growled in my ear. He gave me an aggressive squeeze before running off ahead, sliding under the bottom rope. Elias, standing in the center next to his stool, backed away, hands up. He looked back and forth between Dean in front of him and Seth and Roman closing in from behind.

I closed the distance to the ring and climbed the steps. _Don’t trip_ , I chanted in my head. Dean pushed the bottom rope down with one foot and lifted the middle rope with both hands. I slipped inside and found myself on the Raw main stage for the first time.

Elias looked me over, a glare of disgust on his face. An act, of course. I knew him backstage. He taught me a few chords on the guitar when we had spare time.

Alicia muttered something to him and he bowed, stepping aside. Dean turned back to me and grinned.

“Give ‘em hell, dollface,” he said, hands settled on each side of my face.

I gave him a shove in the chest, pushing him aside. He cackled and stepped between the ropes.

The bell rang. Alicia and I circled one another in the center of the ring. She was taller than me, longer legs and arms. When we finally met, it was like having a vice locked around my head.

I could hear Dean shouting encouragement behind me. Every now and then, I got a glimpse of Seth and Roman pounding on the apron. Seconds passed in a blur that was pain and adrenaline and a whirl of colors and sights and sounds. I missed a cross body off the top rope, but caught her in an inside cradle near her corner. When she kicked out, she scuttled backward to tag in Elias.

He hopped over the top rope and stared down at me as I got to my feet. I knew what was coming, we’d gone over it backstage earlier.

“Run on home, sweetheart,” he said just loud enough for Dean and the others to hear.

Even though I expected it, I felt my blood boil. I lifted my hand to slap him but got caught up around the waist and dragged back to my own corner.

“Easy, Llane,” Seth said gently. “Easy.”

Just like we practiced, Dean shot by and knocked Elias to the mat. Within seconds, it was a bar fight. Dean, sitting on Elias’ chest and beating the shit out of him. Seth slipped back outside the ring. I stood on the bottom rope, shouting encouragement and talking trash to Alicia.

The rest of the match was a blur. Back and forth, tag in and tag out. Seth and Roman prowling outside, moral support I suppose. I was representing the Hounds after all.

It was the basement dropkick that did it. Alicia took a little too long to get up, staggering on her knees. I stood by the ropes, looking down at the Hounds. One by one they nodded, turning their thumbs down, calling for blood.

I crossed the ring, kicked out, my boot making contact with Alicia’s midsection. She doubled over, in perfect position. I locked her arms up, swung my leg out and smacked the both of us on the mat. Somewhere, the announcers were shouting, “Dirty Deeds! Llane hits Dirty Deeds!”

The longest three seconds of my life. One. Two. Three.

It was euphoric to hear the roar of the crowd. I fell back onto my knees, hands over my eyes to hide the fact that I was crying. The bell rang, and I heard JoJo’s voice over the speakers.

“And your winners, Llane Black and Dean Ambrose!”

My music hit, and suddenly I was engulfed in the smell of sweat and cologne and Kevlar. Dean had me by the face, his forehead up against mine. “That’s how we do it, dollface!”

In the next moment, I was in the air, hoisted on Roman’s shoulders. Seth was up on the second rope, shouting at the crowd. Dean was in the opposite corner, doing the same.

Then it was over. Seth and Dean were out at ringside, both looking back toward where Roman still held me hoisted up. I gave them both a grin as Roman dropped me to the mat. I climbed the turnbuckles and stepped up onto the post. With a wide smile, I turned my back to the two of them and held up my arms to the crowd.

I gave a wave and then let myself fall backward. Surprise flashed over Roman’s features as he watched me drop.

The crowd erupted as I landed in the waiting cradle Seth and Dean made. When my boots hit the floor, the pair of them threw their arms around my shoulders and led the way up the ramp.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_(GIF Owned by mariogoetze on Tumblr)_

            Adrenaline is a funny thing. When it’s racing through you, you feel as if you can never fail. You’re indestructible. There’s nothing that can get in your way. But its absence is deflation. You feel horribly empty, except for the pain. When the aches begin…

            Backstage, I sank into the first chair that I could find. Dean was bouncing back and forth, a puppy with too much energy. I grinned, still riding high on the emotion of my first big match.

            “You scared the hell out of me,” Roman said as he crouched down. He gripped the neck of his vest, looking unimpressed.

            “It’s what we do, Ro,” Dean said with his trademark grin. “Besides, we practiced.”

            There was silence for a moment. Then, without warning, the three of them broke into laughter. Dean gathered me up into a hug, pressing his forehead to mine. “You did good, dollface.”

            “Yeah, you did,” Roman agreed. “Go get cleaned up. You’re riding with us.”

            I nodded and shoved Dean off. “Go find Renee. Tell her I said hey,” I tossed over my shoulder. Then I took off toward the showers in a limping sort of run. A shower was just what I needed.

 

            “C’mon, dollface!” Dean shouted. He was leaning up against the side of a black SUV in a t-shirt and pair of worn jeans. He had a beanie pulled down over his red hair. “Time to hit the road.”

            I fought the urge to throw him the finger as I pulled my suitcase behind me, backpack slung over one shoulder. Grey leggings, sneakers, and a Shield hoodie kept back the crisp air from the garage. My damp hair was tied up in a bun and tucked beneath the hood of my sweatshirt.

            “I’m here,” I slurred, already feeling exhausted. “Just get me in the car and let me sleep.”

            “What, you’re not driving?” Roman grinned at me as he slid into the passenger seat.

            “Funny, Ro,” I said as I tried to wedge my suitcase into the trunk with the others. “I’ll fall asleep and kill us all.”

            Dean hooked his arm around my neck and tucked me in close. “Good thing I’m driving then. You get to keep Seth from getting carsick in the back.”

            The rear passenger door opened. Weight dipped the car as Seth stood up on the runner. “Stop talking and get in the damn car. I’m starving.”

            Dean shut the trunk while I climbed in behind the driver’s seat. I tucked my backpack into the space between Seth and I on the floorboard. Roman, riding shotgun, already had his headphones in. Seth was scrolling through his phone. I pulled on my seatbelt and tucked my feet beneath me.

            The engine roared as Dean pulled out of the garage and onto the street. The GPS called out directions as we headed toward the highway. I leaned my head against the window and watched the city pass away into darkness. The car was quiet, save the faint hiss of Roman’s headphones and the world outside.

            “Any preference for dinner?” Seth asked from beside me. His voice seemed to come from far away. I had nearly fallen asleep.

            “Huh?”

            He grinned a little, showing off bright white teeth. “Dinner. You craving anything in particular?”

            I shrugged. “Sleep mostly. I’m not that hungry.”

            “Nah ah, dollface,” Dean said from the driver’s seat. “You always eat after a match. No skipping.”

            “Whatever you guys get is fine then. I’ll find something on the menu.” I yawned and tucked my hand beneath my cheek against the window. It was cold, too cold to let me drift back off to sleep.

            “Here,” Seth said, wadding up a Brave and Black zippered hoodie. He settled it against his thigh and gestured me over. “You won’t get any sleep otherwise.”

            I unhooked my belt and stretched out on the seat. I was just short enough to be able to curl up comfortably, toes against the door and my head pillowed on Seth’s leg. He squirmed for a minute, then settled in with one arm along the back of the seat. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt down over my eyes.

            The light dimmed. Seth must have turned down the screen on his phone. Dean turned on the radio, just loud enough to keep him awake. The driver’s window went down a little, the sounds of the highway creating a kind of calming white noise.

            I don’t think I actually fell asleep, more just gave in to exhaustion and dropped into a stupor. I was warm enough wrapped in my clothes and the heat of the other bodies in the car. The soft rocking of the car lulled me into semi-consciousness.

            Sometime, I don’t know when, Seth’s arm dropped from the back of the seat. His thumb rubbed soothing paths on my ribs.

            Perhaps I did slip away into sleep. At some point, I rose back up to consciousness. The car was silent and still. The dull yellow of late night diner lights poured over my face, blinding after the darkness of before. I turned over to hide from the light, settling against the warm body beneath my head.

            “Llane?” came the whisper from above.

            I grunted and tucked my forehead against the softness of someone’s side. The body stilled, not quite breathing. I gave a sigh of contentment, closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of soap and cologne.

            Time stretched out. No meaning, no measure. The world went formless.

            A click, rustle of plastic and paper. “You had to have grilled,” someone complained.

            “Shh,” the voice above me hissed. A hand settled against my head, just over my ear. “She’s asleep.”

            “How you gonna eat?” The voice was vaguely familiar. Dean. Quizzical in the face of the obvious.

            “One handed, how else?”

            The body nearby moved almost imperceptibly. A faint rustle of plastic passed from the front of the car to the back. There was a pop and then the scent of grilled chicken wafted around me.

            My stomach growled, loud enough to be heard.

            “Wake her up. She should eat.” Roman, more authoritative than Dean, not quite as indulgent as the voice nearby.

            I growled, struggled to sit up. “I’m awake. No one can sleep with you three around.”

            My body was warm, my brain fuzzy. I turned to sit with my back against the door and pulled my knees up to my chest. “Here,” Roman said, handing back a plastic container. The clear lid was foggy from the steam of whatever was inside. A pack of cutlery and a Styrofoam cup with lid and straw followed.

            “We got you the same as Seth,” Roman said, a sheepish look on his face. “We didn’t know what you’d like.”

            My stomach let out another growl. “If it’s food, it’s perfect.”

            I balanced the cup between the back of the seat and my thigh. When I pried the lid off the top of the container, I almost moaned at how wonderful it smelled. Two huge pieces of grilled chicken sat steaming on a thick salad with a side of toast.

            “Oh my God,” I growled before digging in.

            Dean laughed from the front as he started the car up again. He shoveled a few fries into his mouth as he reengaged the GPS and drove back toward the highway.

            The four of us were subdued for a little while as we ate. For one in the morning, the food was pretty good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had something that was actually this wonderful.

            “So, Llane,” Roman said from the front, “what do you do, outside of kicking ass?”

            I grinned, taking the time to lick my fork clean. “Hang out with my brothers when I’m home. Watch movies. I probably have six books in my backpack. And there’s a Switch in there somewhere.”

            “You like videogames?” Seth asked, one brow cocked.

            I nodded. “As soon as Steph told me I was on the main roster, I started hoping I’d go to Smackdown.”

            Seth laughed, a kind of cackling easy sound. “Trust me, Woods will get ahold of you eventually. When the new Madden comes out, you’ll get in the tournament.”

            “I prefer _Injustice_ myself,” I said, popping the lid back on my empty container.

            We talked for a while longer about videogames. Sated, my body settled back down into the quiet that preluded sleep. I finished my drink and tucked everything into the floorboard to throw away later.

            “Wake me when we get to the hotel,” I said, yawning. I turned onto my hip and stretched back out in the seat. My head pillowed on Seth’s thigh, the zippered jacket tucked around me like a blanket. I was turned so that my knees pressed against the back of the seat and the scent of Seth’s shirt filled my nose.

            After a while, his hand settled near the back of my head, fingers toying with my hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_(GIF Owned by stellarollins on Tumblr)_

            I woke up just as the car pulled in to the parking garage at the hotel. It wasn’t anything fancy, not really, but it was a bed and a shower and the promise of food in the morning.

            My body protested when I tried to sit up. I was surprised by how deeply and completely I’d slept curled in the backseat with Seth as a pillow. The exhaustion must have been more complete than I thought.

            “Rise and shine, dollface,” Dean said as he opened my door. “Let’s get you inside.”

            I staggered out of the car, tripping a little on the runner. “Gimme my bags,” I slurred. “I want to go to bed.”

            Dean tugged my backpack from the floorboard and handed it to me. Seth sat my luggage on the ground at my feet. “Renee’s waiting inside. I’ll see you guys at the show tomorrow.”

            He threw his arm around my neck, tugged me I close like my brothers used to, and dropped a kiss on top of my head. “Sleep tight,” he mumbled before grabbing his bags and heading inside.

            Roman shouldered his bag and slammed the trunk shut. He jerked his head toward the door leading to the hotel. We walked together, one of them on either side of me like bodyguards. Roman held the door and ushered Seth and I through.

            My room was on the floor just above Seth and Roman’s. Dean and Renee were somewhere else, I didn’t ask where. The two of them insisted on seeing me to my room. Before I slipped behind the locked door, Seth handed me a napkin with a set of numbers scrawled on it.

            “Call if you need us. Text if you get bored,” he said with a boyish grin. He held out his fist, brown eyes large and bright.

            I grinned back, returned his fist bump, said goodnight. I made sure the door locked behind me. Sleep engulfed me seconds after I hit the bed.

            Formless dreams and colors wrapped around my thoughts. Consciousness surfaced at four, keeping a vicelike grip. The dreams slipped away, some wishful desire that I couldn’t catch.

            The room was dark and quiet. I sat up in the bed and rubbed my eyes. Neon numbers glowed from the bedside, taunting me with promises of sleep that danced out of reach. I sighed and climbed from the bed, rubbing at an ache that had settled into my back. The pain radiated down into my hip as I crossed the room and dug in my bag for an Icy Hot patch. I’d need to see a trainer before the next show to get some kinesiotape for that spot.

            I flipped on the TV and sank onto the little two-seater sofa by the window. There were still spikes of adrenaline in my veins, fighting the withdrawal that wanted to bleed me of all consciousness. I couldn’t focus long enough to read, but I knew there was no going back to sleep.

            Instead, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my hoodie and clicked it on. My fingers slid over the touchscreen, adding the numbers on the napkin Seth had given me. For a moment, I thought about texting one of them. But I knew they had to be tired, sleeping deeply in exhaustion. I couldn’t bring myself to wake one of them from a well-earned sleep.

            Around six, I couldn’t beat the boredom away any longer. I paced the room, tossing the patch in the garbage and rubbing gently to ease the remaining soreness. The sun poured in through the parted curtains as I slipped on my shoes, brushed my teeth, and tugged my hair back into a messy bun.

            I tucked my room key in my hoodie pocket with my phone and headed down the hall toward the elevator. While I waited, I tried to plan out as much of the day as possible. The show was at 8, and I was in another mixed match with Dean at around 9. Seth and Roman had singles matches later in the night. It seemed I had a few hours to myself before we had to pile into the car and hit the road to the next city.

            The elevator dropped one floor, the door opening with a ding. Seth stepped into the car, bleary eyed and yawning. He tapped the button for the lobby and smiled.

            “Morning, Llane,” he mumbled, rubbing both hands over his face. The car filled with the rustle of calloused fingers through a beard.

            “Morning, Seth,” I returned, a little more aware. Two hours of wakefulness stood behind me. He looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed. “Sleep well?”

            He shrugged and leaned over conspiratorially. “Ro snores. Like rooming with a chainsaw.”

            I laughed a little, grinning. “Me either. Been awake since four. I slept too well in the car, I think.”

            Seth scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. It pulled the fabric of his shirt tight against his muscled form. He wore a white screen-printed tee under the Black and Brave zippered hoodie. Sweatpants and flipflops. “Nobody sleeps well on the road.”

            I lifted a brow, leaned back against the side of the car. “I had a really good pillow.”

            He laughed, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. Before he could say anything, the elevator settled to a stop and the doors slid open. He held out a hand, gesturing for me to go first. I tucked my hands into my hoodie and looked around, trying to find the breakfast room.

            “Left,” Seth said from just over my shoulder. “Stay away from the pancakes. They’re nasty.”

            We walked the rest of the way to the breakfast room in silence. There weren’t many people awake, so we basically had the place to ourselves. I grabbed a plate and loaded up on eggs, breakfast potatoes with peppers and onions, some fruit, and a bowl of Raisin Bran with skim milk. A passing worker offered to bring orange juice to the table. I grinned my thanks and settled into a seat by the window. There wasn’t much of a view—just the landscaping by the entrance and the road beyond—but it had the calm of early morning.

            “Jesus,” Seth whistled as he sat across from me. His eyes roved over my plate.

            I stabbed my fork into some potatoes, glared at him from under my brows. “If you say that I eat a lot for a girl, I’m going to kick you in your bad knee.”

            He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. When it was clear that I wasn’t going to do anything else, he tucked in to his own food. I polished off the eggs and potatoes first, then worked through the rest of it with relish.

            “Stop staring,” I said through a mouthful of Raisin Bran. “I’m not a zoo animal.”

            He had the sense to look sheepish.

            We parted ways a few minutes after seven. I went to the hotel giftshop to pick up a souvenir for my nephew. Seth went back upstairs, grumbling about trying to get some sleep before we had to head to the arena.

            “Morning, dollface,” Dean said, throwing his arm around my neck. Sneaky bastard. He scared me enough that I jerked an elbow into his gut. He let out an oomph of air.

            “Shit, sorry!” I said, looking stricken. “You snuck up on me.”

            Blonde hair appeared around Dean’s beefy shoulder. Renee Young smiled as she patted her husband on the back. “He deserved it.”

            Renee reached over to give me a sideways hug. She’d been one of the first to welcome me to the Raw brand when they’d paired me with Dean. She was also full of advice about how to deal with the mess that was the Shield.

            “Morning, Renee,” I said cheerily. “You guys are up early.”

            She shrugged. “I have to be at the arena early to film some stuff for the network. Good luck tonight, by the way.”

            Dean grunted. “Don’t need luck. Me and dollface here are unbeatable.”

            Renee and I rolled our eyes at one another. Dean gave me a dramatic smacking kiss on the side of the head before giving his wife a more genuine liplock. We watched him disappear around the corner, mumbling to himself.

            “God, he’s just like my brother,” I lamented, thinking of the linebacker who taught me how to do an armbar when I was eight.

            “I hope that’s a good thing,” she said, giggling.

            I shrugged. “Most of the time. I’ve been away from them so long that I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to be a girl surrounded by guys.”

            “It’ll be good for them. Too much testosterone all together.”

            I grinned. “This business is built on too much testosterone.”

            “True,” Renee said quietly, leaning against the counter of the giftshop. “But I’m glad they’ve got someone else looking after them.”

            “They’ve been fantastic.” Warmth seeped through my limbs. It had only been a few weeks, but they had made me feel at home. “Sasha was right. I couldn’t have gotten a better partner.”

            With a mischievous smile, Renee patted me on the hand. “Ask about getting paired with Seth. Then we’ll talk.”

            She grinned at me over her shoulder as she walked away, probably searching for her errant husband.

 

            The backstage area was cold. Goosebumps ran along my exposed skin. If I wasn’t already in makeup and hair, I would’ve tugged on my hoodie to keep warm.

            “Tell me where it hurts.” The trainer lifted the back of my Hounds of Justice shirt and started prodding gently at the sore spot along my back. When he hit the worst of the ache, I twisted away from the pressure, hissing.

            He got closer, taking care to find the extent of the injury without causing any additional pain. Twenty minutes, an ice pack, and some tape later, I slipped from the trainer’s room.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_(GIF Owned by lunaticrollins on Tumblr)_

            I don’t think I’ve ever been in as much pain as I was in that moment. My ribs ached so fervently that I couldn’t catch a breath. Agony radiated along my back, circling my midsection. Whoever says an abdominal stretch wasn’t painful has never had one applied by Ruby Riott.

            Dean bounced on the ropes in the corner, pounding his fist on the turnbuckle. He shouted encouragement.

            Seth and Roman prowled outside the ring. Just then, I had eyes on Seth. The cameraman stood just behind him, projecting the pain on my face onto the screen hanging above the ring.

            Ruby leaned over, her hair hiding our faces. “You good?”

            I couldn’t get breath enough to answer. A flash of concern crossed her face.

            She broke the hold, tossing me to the mat. She paced the ring, gloating, drawing all eyes to her. I gasped, fighting through the pain to get some air into my lungs. It took everything I had to crawl to the corner. There wasn’t enough energy to reach up to tag Dean. Instead, he smacked me in the shoulder and jumped the ropes.

            Across the ring, Ruby rolled out of the ring. Baron Corbin came in swinging.

            I crouched on the steel steps, clutching my ribs and trying to breathe. The shouts of the crowd drowned away. Even adrenaline wasn’t enough to keep this kind of ache at bay.

            “You good?” Roman said as he passed by.

            When I didn’t answer, he paced back around, raking his gaze over me. He let out a whistle that drew Seth from the other side of the ring.

            “Llane?” Seth’s voice was gruff, edged with concern and something like bloodlust. He was psyching himself up for his match later.

            I pointed surreptitiously to my ribs, forehead pressed against the cold ring post as I tried to drag in oxygen. Seth stepped up, settled one hand on the small of my back. I hissed at the pressure.

            “Shit,” he spat, looking around. Dean and Corbin were grappling on the mat. Roman was watching with a worried expression.

            There wasn’t anything to be done, not really. Distract the referee maybe, get word backstage that something was wrong. Interfere, get disqualified and get backstage to the trainer.

            I put one hand on Seth’s shoulder, leaned in to his ear. “Herd Ruby this way.”

            Seth raised a brow before stepping away, circling the ring. He spoke quickly to Roman before the two of them stalked toward Ruby and Corbin’s corner. Ruby dropped from the apron, hands up and backing away from them.

            When she rounded the corner, I threw a punch, catching her in the back. She turned, anger flaring in her eyes. We locked up, bulls fighting by the horns.

            “What are you doing, Black?” Ruby hissed.

            “Hit me. Hard enough to knock me flat,” I gasped. Fire seared along my ribs.

            Ruby let out a little _oh_ of understanding. She broke the hold and reared back, giving me a straight shot across the jaw. I banged into the apron and fell back onto the mat, arms crossed over my head in the sign of an injury.

            Seth jumped up on the apron, yelling at the referee. Once he saw me on the floor, he called for the bell. It didn’t happen often, a match ending without a winner, but true injuries were good enough reasons.

            The trainer came running down the ramp, an on call EMT not far behind. Seth, Roman, and Dean formed a wall between me and the crowd.

            “Your back?” the trainer said stiffly.

            I looked up at him, knowing my eyes were glistening with tears. My breath came in a rattling gasp.

            “Ribs,” Seth said quietly from above. “Ruby fucked the stretch.”

            I tried to shake my head, tell him it was just an accident.

            “Help me get her backstage,” the trainer said.

            Seth leaned down, took one hand. Dean did the same nearby. Roman slipped in behind me as they slowly lifted me to my feet. They waited, watching to make sure I didn’t fall over. I took a step, whimpered as pain rushed through my ribs.

            “She’s not walking the ramp,” Dean growled at the trainer.

            Roman let out a grunt. He moved the others aside, gently swept me up with an arm beneath my knees and around my shoulders. “This is going to hurt,” he whispered.

            I nodded, grit my teeth, waited for the jarring stab that came with each step. Around us, the arena erupted with cheers. Hurt or not, I was still a Hound. Smartphones snapped, whistles like those when you caught two people kissing.

            Dean walked just ahead, stalking behind the trainer. Roman tried to smooth his gait as much as possible, saving me from the worst of the pain. Seth hovered nearby, one gloved hand resting where my head met Roman’s shoulder.

            “Move!” Dean growled as we entered the backstage area. He pushed people out of the way, clearing a path to the trainer’s room.

            The passage narrowed, Seth got pushed behind us. His finger slipped momentarily, came back with a vengeance and no gloves.

            Roman settled me as gently as possible on the trainer’s table. He and Dean backed up against the wall, out of the way. Seth crouched at the head of the table, a worried air around him.

            “You’re gonna be just fine, dollface,” Dean said quietly, almost to himself. A prayer. A wish.

            The trainer lifted my shirt, looking me over, prodding. I let out a whimper of pain. Seth swore. Dean turned and pounded one fist into the wall.

            The moments passed in a slow crawl. My vision blurred. Tears poured down, disappearing into my hair. I dug my nails into the table mat.

            Silence stretched, filled with an emptiness that bubbled and expanded. The trainer tucked my shirt down, handed me some tissues.

            “Several bruised ribs. I don’t think there’s anything broken,” the trainer said quietly. “Sit out a full week. You can’t breathe, you can’t compete.”

            I struggled to sit up, feeling every second of it as if I was going to throw up. My body ached. The tears came stronger, faster, blistering in pain as I gasped for breath.

            “Hey, hey,” Seth said, slipping in front of me.

            His hands settled on either side of my face, dark eyes fixing on mine from beneath. Tunnel vision kicked in. Adrenaline of a different sort spiked my blood.

            “A few busted ribs,” he said with a sad smile. “They’ll heal up. Let ‘em rest.”

            Roman nodded, pushing the trainer out the door. When he turned around, there was compassion in his gaze. Dean sighed as he leaned against the end of the table. There was a tense set to his shoulders.

            Seth tucked my hair behind my ears. His fingers were calloused on the ends, rasping against my skin, that tender spot beneath my earlobe. I tried to breathe, to shake off the shiver that ran along my spine.

            “C’mon,” he whispered, dark eyes roaming over my face. “We’ll find one of the female trainers for you. Get you a shower and taped up so you can rest.”

            He looked back over his shoulder, met Roman’s eyes. With a grunt and the shnick of the door, Roman disappeared, following orders.

            Dean paced, looking uneasy. I focused on Seth’s mahogany eyes, drew a painful breath. “Dean… I’ll be… fine.”

            I reached out a hand, tapped his fingers with my fist.

            He shot a glance at Seth, something alighting in his eyes. Something I couldn’t place. “Yeah,” Dean said, gravel-voiced. “You’ll be fine, dollface.”

            He propped himself up on the edge of the table and put an arm gently around my shoulders. His head rested against the top of mine. Seth stood, kissed my forehead. Sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

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            An hour later, one of the trainers had helped me get showered and dressed in street clothes. She taped and bandaged my ribs until it only hurt slightly to take a breath. When she was satisfied I was in the least pain possible, she disappeared, leaving me to wait for Seth and Roman to finish their matches.

            I paced the locker room slowly, smoothing my steps until I could hardly feel the jarring up my side. Breathing came a bit easier.

            Someone knocked on the door, swung it open. Dark damp hair peeked around the frame.

            My breath hitched.

            Seth looked me over, assessing the way I stood, the rise and fall of my chest with air. “You good?” he asked softly, a furrow between his brows.

            I smiled, shy somehow. My fingers twitched, tucked hair behind my ear. My side ached too much to get it up in any kind of way. “I’m okay.”

            His shoulders sagged, a weight lifted off. He ran a hand over his hair, rubbed the back of his neck. “You want to ride up front tonight? Might be less bumpy.”

            I made a face, a slight twist of the mouth down and a scrunch of the nose. Shook my head.

            “Let’s go, losers,” Dean said, walking by. He stopped, backed up, gave me an assessing stare. “Gimme those bags, dollface.”

            He shouldered my backpack and pulled my suitcase along with his own. Grunted at Seth on the way out the door, said something I couldn’t hear.

            “Ro’s driving tonight. He’ll take it easy.”

            I nodded, took one last look around the locker room to make sure that I got everything. Seth waited, watchful by the door.

 

            The backseat was outfitted with pillows when we got there. Roman was around back, finishing the Tetris job of fitting all the bags inside. Dean had the rear door open, adjusting the pile into something resembling reclining posture.

            “Riding in style tonight, dollface,” he said, grinning sheepishly.

            I wanted to laugh. It hurt too much.

            “Why do you call her ‘dollface,’ Dean? She’s got a name,” Seth asked, tossing a water bottle into his side of the backseat.

            “Can’t call her _sweetheart_ ,” Dean retorted with a smirk. He clapped Seth hard on the cheek. “That’s you.”

            The laugh came without permission. It was a wheezing sound, like a kazoo. I pressed my fingers against my side, holding in the spasm that ran along my ribs.

            “Thanks, Dean,” I gasped, pushing gently around Seth’s bulk. One hand on the door, the other on the car frame. A foot on the runner, grunting as the weight shifted onto the sore side. Gritted teeth, hissing breath.

            A pair of warm hands on my spine, helping take the weight, easing the pull through my midsection. “Take it easy, Llane,” rumbled the voice paired with the hands.

            Glancing back, I caught a glimpse of Seth watching every move with tight eyes. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, strength in his fingers held back to avoid inflicting pressure.

            There was a sigh when I settled into the next of pillows. A release of tension, stress. Fear.

            The others piled in, taking care to avoid jostling as much as they could. Roman drove like a grandmother, easing over bumps and avoiding potholes. I smiled at him in the rearview, grateful that he tried to spare me pain.

            I ran my fingers through my hair, wishing I could get it out of my face. Darkness descended outside. I wanted to sleep.

            “Scoot,” Seth grunted, sticking his phone in his pocket. He gathered up pillows, spread them around to cushion my side. He tucked an arm along the back of the seat, patted the pile of fluff beside him.

            My movements were slow, slightly jerky. Settling in was harder than the night before. Too much pressure on my side made it hard to breathe.

            I curled against Seth’s thigh, moving the pillows so that my cheek rested on the denim of his pants. Deep breath, laundry soap and cologne. My heart thumped against my sternum, achingly, desperately. There was something comforting about the smell, comforting and desirable all at once.

            Sleep was elusive. It came and went in phases, lights along the highway. Pieces of knowledge and consciousness slipped in and out. Jigsaws waiting to be snapped together in dreams.

            “Stories aren’t about us,” came Roman’s voice from the front. He spoke softly, as if to avoid disturbing my sleep. “Blog is all on you, Seth.”

            “Doesn’t mean anything yet,” Dean’s voice replied. “So long as Renee doesn’t have to say anything, you’re good.”

            My eyes moved behind closed lids, a mimic of dream and distance from reality. A thump, an ache through my ribs, a pulse in the hollow of my throat.

            The voice above me was soft, gruff in its awe. “I got scared, all right? She just… went down. She couldn’t breathe.”

            I imagined Roman looking back at him in the rearview, something knowing in his dark eyes.

            Fingers slid through the strands of my hair. Heavy callouses running along my scalp in spine shivering ease. Something coiled deep in my stomach, up into my chest. A promise. A desire.

            The fingers stilled, thumb settled in that spot beneath my earlobe, smoothed back and forth. Electricity shot along my skin, breath hitching.

            “You’re not that good at hiding it anyway,” Dean added finally. He made a sound like a laugh. “You get all puppy eyed when you look at her.”

            Seth’s fingers gathered up my hair, twisted it into a knot and pushed it out of the way. Roughened skin brushed along the faint bruise on my jaw from Ruby’s punch. A thumb smoothed the shape of my cheekbone.

            No answer came from above. The air was too thick, too hot. I suddenly felt self-conscious. This was forbidden knowledge, secrets shared in the darkness of the car late at night. Something not meant for my ears.

            I sighed, squirmed, tried to make sense of the noise in my thoughts. What did puppy-eyed look like?

            Curiosity swept through me, the wondering of the sight and sound of what Seth was so bad at hiding. My lashes fluttered, cowardice keeping me from boldness.

            “Woof,” Seth said quietly.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

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            Roman swept the car up to the door of the hotel, slipped to a stop as smoothly as possible. I heard the rhythmic swing of keys in the ignition, the dinging of the door. They spoke in whispers, shut doors with quietness.

            “Don’t wake her up,” Seth murmured. His hands cradled the back of my head, lowering me to the seat. My heart rose to my throat, threatening to give me away. Rough fingers mixed with a gentle touch.

            A whir of sound, rustle of fabric and leather. Rubber luggage wheels against concrete. The quiet strain of a backpack strap.

            _Open your eyes_ , I thought. _Open your eyes and act like you heard nothing._ Wipe the words from memory, go on as before.

            “Let me do it,” the gruff voice, powerful. Roman. I sensed his shadow falling over me, protecting me from what I shouldn’t know.

            There was a gathering of limbs, the inaudible grunts of carefulness and worry. I left the forgiving seat for the unyielding wall of muscle and bone. Roman cradled me gently, holding me against his chest. The smooth gait, gentle steps. The walk of a father with his child asleep in his arms.

            The pressure changed as we entered the front doors of the hotel. Cool, stale air washed over my skin. _Open your eyes. Wake up. You look like a fool._

            I shuffled, moved just enough to signal wakefulness. My throat closed. I sucked in a deep breath, the shock through my ribs enough to bring me to full consciousness. A flutter of lashes, a sleepy-time grunt of a child.

            “Where are we?” I asked, my voice a fluffy whisper.

            “The hotel,” Roman replied. “We didn’t want to wake you.”

            I fussed enough to be set on my feet. Dizziness swept through me. I gripped the edge of the front desk to stop myself from swaying. The weight of the air changed, closed and warmed as bodies circled around me. There was a hand on the small of my back, steadying, waiting.

            The desk clerk checked us in, handed over keys and credit cards. I felt eyes racing over my being, the strangeness of being watched. I glanced over my shoulder, caught Dean watching me directly, Seth watching under his brows. My heart skipped into my toes.

            “You’re on the sixth floor, dollface, with us” Dean said, leaning a little against my shoulder. His arm went around me, settled his palm on my upper arm. “Some real sleep will do you a hell of a lot of good.”

            I gave in, let him guide me to the elevator. The others piled in, looking anywhere but at me. Dean stayed close, hovering. Roman’s shadow stood like a barrier between me and the world. Seth stared at the wall, his gaze settling on my reflection in the polished steel. His eyes were dark, almost black in the high gloss silver.

            “Where’s Renee tonight?” I asked quietly, suddenly afraid of breaking the silence.

            Dean smiled, shook his head. “She’s already heading to a new city. We’re three to a room tonight.”

            I nodded, cowed into silence once again. The elevator dinged, doors slid open with a vacuum swish. My knees threatened to give way. I couldn’t force my feet to take steps.

            “Go easy,” Seth said, his body flexing, turning its bulk toward me. He looked so much like a great wall, a mass of tall and dark and olive that looked inviting and terrifying all at once. His face was hollowed, the deep chocolate black of his eyes flicking over me in waves.

            One step. Another. An arc of pain shot from my hip, up through my side, sank into my spine, constricting my chest. It was a shot, a bullet through my flesh, fire burning and blistering.

            I let out a gasp of pain. My knees gave way. The carpet rushed upward, promising pain.

            “Llane!”

            Solidness hooked around my hips, a head of soft hair tucked beneath my arm. I cried out, tears forming as the sudden snap back lashed through my spine.

            “Up you go,” Seth rasped, curling an arm beneath my knees. Gravity had no meaning. Everything was light and smelled of laundry soap and shampoo. I curled into the scent, felt soft fabric slide over hard muscle.

            A hand slipped up, snatched onto a collar, the harsh metal of a zipper. Warm skin brushed my knuckles. Something kindled inside me, a pale light burning with rising flame. Every aching breath brushed oxygen over the flame.

            I wondered what it meant. How it would grow.

            Dean and Roman passed by, walking in front like guards. Seth curled me a little closer, lifted me high against his chest, lessening the jostle that came with each step. I glanced up, unshed tears blurring my vision. His outline was fuzzy. The overhead lights wrapped around his dark hair like a halo. He was so unnervingly close.

            I blinked, trying to force clarity and focus. He came into view. Dark eyes watched me with care, a shuttered worry reflected in them. His mouth was downturned, uncertainty in the thin line of his lips hidden behind beard and moustache.

            “You good?” he queried, voice thick with something I couldn’t name. He whispered, as if he didn’t want the others to hear.

            My head tilted, settled against the curve of his collarbone, cushioned by the thickness of flesh and sinew beneath. There was something beneath the soap and shampoo. A richer scent that threw gasoline on the flame settled against my spine.

            “I am now.” The voice that came from me was deep, threaded with a sense of the unknown. A whisper of the shadow of a promise that bespoke desire.

            The corner of his mouth lifted, a gentle smile brightening his face. It was painful, the beauty of it. My fingers itched, wanted to brush against the curve of his lips.

            Instead, they tightened on his collar. A denial of an urge burning through me like venom.

            Cologne. Ink. The nervous energy that was Dean. “This is you, dollface,” he grunted. I could feel him staring between the two of us.

            The room was small, a Queen-sized bed in crisp white sheets dominated the space. The lights were low, casting shadows. It was too close with the three of them. Their bulk was heavy, massive, took up more space than they should.

            Dean put my suitcase on a little stool against the wall. He leaned my backpack against the side of the bed. He looked as if he wanted to bounce, shake off the buzz that drove him. Roman wasn’t far behind, appearing from the bathroom with a glass of water.

            Seth’s steps were slow, his arms solid and tender as he dropped to a knee on the edge of the bed. Roman piled up pillows, placed the water at the bedside. The moments passed, dragging along like molasses as the arms beneath my limbs edged carefully away.

            It was an absence, like the crash that comes after the spill of adrenaline into the blood. A physical ache.

            Roman hovered by the end of the bed, arms crossed, his face worn with exhaustion and worry. His eyes were hooded, giving nothing away. “We’ll head out. Our room is three down on the left. You need anything, call.”

            His tone brooked little argument. I nodded, glanced to my bag, reached for it and thought better of it as pain lashed through my ribs.

            My faint gasp of pain turned Seth’s pallor white. He snatched at my bag, lifting it in one fist. The color came back, going pink along the cheeks as he held my backpack between us, letting me rummage and gather the things I needed.

            Phone. Charger. A book. The zippered case of my Switch.

            Seth’s eyes followed each item, glued greedily to the game system for a moment.

            “I’m good,” I swore with a halfway smile. “I’ve got everything I need.”

            For a moment, Seth looked ready to disagree. He smiled, a twitching thing that came and went in the blink of an eye. His head dipped in acquiescence. Firm, sure fingers curled around the back of my skull. The warmth of his breath soaked into my skin, the velvet of his lips against my forehead.

            “I’ll be awake for a while. If you need anything… _anything_ … let me know,” he insisted.

            I hoped my eyes said more than my words would allow. _Is this puppy eyed? Is this how it smells and sounds and looks and feels?_ My heart skipped a beat, tugged my bruised ribs out of place for just a moment.

            Seth lingered nearby, not quite separating, not quite staying. A limbo sort of place.

            At the end of the bed, Roman tugged off my shoes and squeezed my feet in a gesture of affection. He smiled, but it seemed sad. Dean held out a fist, bumped it against my own, leaned over to give me a playful headbutt.

            “G’night, dollface,” he said, stepping away. As he passed by, he wrapped his fist in the back of Seth’s jacket, drawing him to the door.

            I felt the dark caress of Seth’s eyes long after the door shut behind the three of them.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

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            I was still awake an hour later. Neither the book nor the Switch was enough to keep my attention, wind me down into sleep. The television held nothing but white noise and annoyance.

            My fingers traced the screen of my phone. The loneliness was more painful than the bruised ribs. It constricted around the flame that licked up my spine, the heat that sputtered and flared when I thought of Seth and the deep pools of his eyes.

            Control was far out of my grasp. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—ignore the burning wish for someone to keep me company.

            I tapped in the message, read it, deleted, tried again. Simple. Easy. Why was I overthinking it?

            _I can’t sleep. Come play Switch?_

            Like a schoolgirl, I waited, eyes locked onto the glass and plastic, watching the light fade from view. My fist clenched around the phone, pleading with someone to hear that faint pop, that ding of response.

            A burning whipped through my throat, I wanted to cry. Thought I would.

            The knock on the door was soft, almost inaudible. A vibration twisted along my skin. _Let me in_.

            I groaned, pulling myself from the bed. Every step ached. I bit into my bottom lip.

            Eye to the peep hole, the hazy vision of Seth on the other side of the door. Something galloped in my chest, throwing my aching ribs into a breathless chase.

            The heavy click of locks letting go, the sweep of a door against carpet. I backed against the wall, let him pass by. Combusted at the fact he was so close.

            He wore loose grey sweatpants, a worn Blackcraft Cult t-shirt, black rimmed glasses, grey beanie over his tied-up hair. His feet were bare, toes barely visible beneath the cuffs of his baggy pants.

            I let the door swing shut with a whine of hinges and the loud snap of the lock into place. Seth’s back was to me. The shirt fit him well, clinging to the lines and curves of his body, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. The sweatpants hung low, drawing the gaze to the indent of his waist, the slope of his hips.

            Heat, an inferno engulfing me. I felt it settle on my cheeks, twine down my neck. My eyes swept him again, newly greedy for his presence.

            Seth turned, pushed his beanie a little further up his forehead, tugged it down in the back. The glasses made him look softer somehow. Everything about him was smoothed, the solidness and angles and mass of him tucked away beneath worn cotton.

            He smiled, a little tilt of his head to the side, the curve of his mouth setting off the apples of his cheeks. Behind the glasses, his eyes brightened. He crossed his arms over his chest, fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. Let out a sigh.

            “How’re the ribs?” Gentle, formal. An uptick in the tone at the end.

            I sucked in a breath, tried not to flinch when my ribs expanded with it. My mouth curved into a matching smile. “As good as can be expected,” I replied. “Thanks for coming over.”

            I took my time walking back to the bed. Every step sent a jolt of agony through my side. Somehow, the thought of showing weakness just then was terrifying. Devastating.

            Seth shrugged, watched my every movement until I climbed awkwardly onto the mattress. He didn’t move until I leaned back against the pillows.

            “No problem,” he said, looking around. “I’m a little wound up myself.”

            The words fluttered into being, settled around my neck and slithered into my ears. To think too long or too deep was to court some disaster that I wasn’t sure I could handle.

            Fingers twitched. I reached for the Switch in its zippered pouch, brought it into my lap and held it toward Seth in offering.

            His eyes swept over me, skipped the item cradled against my palms. I felt his gaze like a physical touch, raising goosebumps on my arms and legs. _Move_. I thought. _Do something._

            Fluidity. Sinew and muscle and bone working in perfect unity. The Queen bed dipped. The scent of hotel sheets fluffed into the air. Became replaced by the faint, heady musk of soap.

            Quiet. So quiet. _Too quiet_. Terror. Intrigue. The smoldering embers of some kind of hope of desire.

            “I don’t have many games,” I said finally, at a loss for how to fill the vacuum of the space between us. “But you can play whatever I’ve got.”

            Seth took the Switch, calloused fingers toying with the zipper pull. He shrugged, rise and fall of solid muscle.

            “We can just hang out,” he said quietly. His gaze snapped to the television. “Watch TV or something until you get tired.”

            I reached up, wrapped my hair around my fist, tugged and smoothed until it was wound into a smooth spiral. Not for the first time did I wish for a hair tie, the ability to twist it up out of my way.

            “It means a lot to me.” A soft sound, something like a whisper, a prayer. “You guys have been great.”

            His grin got a little bigger. He pushed the glasses up his nose a little, crossed his legs at the ankles. I stared at his feet, not sure where else to look. He reached over, palm against the curve of my knee, fingers curled against the skin inside my thigh. Lightning bolts snapped through my nervous system.

            “You’re one of us now. And we take care of each other.”

            _Us_. Two letters, a syllable laced with so much. A glimmer of something.

            “It’s been pretty awesome to be around you guys.” My eyelashes fluttered, gaze settling on the curve of his jaw and the tint of his skin beneath his beard. “I should thank Steph sometime soon for pairing me with Dean. I didn’t think I was getting the rest of The Shield in the bargain, but I’m not complaining.”

            A twitch of the fingers against my flesh. He hesitated, kept up the contact for just a moment longer. There was something delicious about the way his roughened skin felt against my skin.

            “Neither am I.” He looked bashful, the full weight of his glance on the place where we touched. It seemed every drop of blood in my body rushed to that spot, dragged heat beneath his fingers. It burned, every nerve ending exploding with sensation.

            Lips parted. Words swirled along my throat, danced on my tongue. I wanted to speak, to tell him—someone—how everything seemed different.

            Absence. Ice. His hand moved away, settled in his own lap. Color rode high on his cheeks.

            “It’s cool having a girl around.” His voice crackled, paper thin. “Like a kid sister.”

            Vertigo, dizziness, a sensation of all the world falling out from beneath me. It was like being caught between the bone-crushing pull of gravity and the draw of something else, something feral and rending. I felt sick.

            “At least that’s what Dean says.” Seth let out a chuckle. Shrugged. “Ro doesn’t talk much. Silent type, you know.”

            I forced a smile. “Never would have guessed.”

            Silence, heavy, suffocating. Acid dripping down my throat, churning my stomach.

            “Me…” He started. Stopped. Lifted his hand, rubbed the back of his neck.

            _What about you?_ I felt them, watched the words string together in my thoughts. They traipsed along, bypassed my vocal cords, disappeared into silence.

            There was no stopping myself from looking at him. His face was flushed, the color bright on his cheeks. A flash of white showed where his teeth sank into his bottom lip. Nostrils flared, something aggressive flashing through the darkness of his eyes.

            An instant, moment, a flash of thought and action. My arm stretched over, fingertips brushing the smooth skin on the inside of his forearm. His pulse beat a staccato at his wrist as my fingers passed by.

            “Whatever it is…” I whispered. My voice broke, dropped, turned into something that could almost be called sultry. “Whatever it is, I don’t mind it at all.”

            Muscle flexed against me. Seth’s fingers brushed along the length of my own, found home in the space between them. They curled, holding my hand in a cool, solid caress.

            His eyes met mine, a little unsure behind his glasses. My lips curved upward. His gaze dropped, watched the way my mouth moved.

            “Whatever it is?” His words were quiet, a faint sound in the heavy air of the room.

            _Something_ , I thought. _Something. Please let it be something._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

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            “Get her, dollface!” Dean yelled from the corner. He jumped up and down on the apron, pacing, pounding on the turnbuckle.

            There was still a faint ache in my ribs as I tried to get around Sarah Logan. She kept slipping out of every hold that I had. At the start of the match, she made the point to throw a couple shots at my battered midsection, knocking the wind out of me.

            Splash of red. A rage like something from Hell. I growled, grabbed her by the hair, threw her backward onto the mat. Sarah let out a well-timed screech.

            I backed up, momentum building as I tossed myself backward into the ropes. They gave, springing back and shooting me toward my opponent. Sarah got her feet beneath her at the same moment that my shoulder hit her stomach, arms around her waist. She folded in half, hit the mat hard with me landing on top.

            Shoulders down. Hook both legs. _One… two… three!_

            The bell rang. My music hit. JoJo’s voice filled the arena. “And your winner, Llane Black!”

            No Dean. No male partner waiting in the other corner to give my opponent a breather. My first singles match on Raw. They had confidence in me. I was over. I was a Hound of Justice now.

            The referee lifted my hand. Vibrations rumbled through the mat as Dean charged in, grabbed me around the waist and swinging me around. He laughed, planted a kiss in my sweaty hair. His exuberance was infectious.

            I wriggled away, climbed to the second rope and posed, mimicking how Roman and Seth riled the crowd. Ringside, Roman laughed, giving me the shaka—thumb and pinkie out, other fingers curled in to the palm.

            The crowd roared. I wished I could hear the commentary. What were Michael, Corey, and Renee saying about me? I’d have to watch a replay later.

            Top rope, balance on the ring post. I didn’t look. Didn’t need to. I knew they were there, knew they would save me if I fell.

            I leaned back, felt air rush by me as gravity pulled me toward the earth. The cradle of their arms settled around me.

            On my feet, Dean threw his arm around my shoulder, tucked me under his arm. Seth came up on the other side, hand on the small of my back. Shivers twirled up my spine.

            At the top of the ramp, we turned, split apart. Seth went to one side of the stage, Dean the other. Roman stood in the middle, bent, arm behind my knees, lifting me up to sit on his shoulder. I lost all sense of sound. The cheers were deafening.

           

            “Good luck,” I said with a smile, still running a towel through my hair. I stood just outside the locker room the guys shared. Seth had changed out of his Shield gear. He was the Kingslayer now—here to burn it down.

            His head was down, face turned away, focusing on the smooth motion required to tie his wrist straps. I followed the movement of his fingers, remembered how they sent heat through me each time he brushed my skin with them. His hair was wet, dripping in a wet spot between his shoulders.

            “It’s just Elias,” he replied, finally looking up at me. His brown eyes sparked, mischief and the battle lust of an oncoming fight. “I can kick his ass with both hands behind my back.”

            His bravado was thrilling. Ignited some sense deep in my primitive self. My whole body flushed.

            “Still.” I held out a fist, bumped it against his. “Kick his ass.”

            I snuck into the interview area to watch the match on the monitor. Elias was good, strong and wicked. Backstage, he was a sweetheart. Like that guy in college who just sat in the quad entertained the people walking by. Ready to sit down and talk, happy to help you smile on a bad day. In the ring… well, I was just glad I wouldn’t ever have to fight him.

            The match was brutal, fast paced. Seth and Elias exchanged blows, grappled in the middle of the ring, down on the mat. A superkick dropped Elias to his back. He rolled onto his hand and knees. Seth stopped rhythmically, yanking in the ropes, grunting and yelling as the crowd chanted in unison _burn it down_ , each word emphasized by boot on the mat.

            Seth took a few running steps, lifted his right foot, pounded Elias’ face against the mat with a curb stomp. He dropped to his knees, pushed Elias over onto his back. The referee counted, the bell rang. Seth sat up, panting, eyes wild with victory.

            A giddy sort of feeling rushed over me. It was a thrill of pride. Something else, something more. It was the sheen of sweat that settled on his olive skin. The dark lines of the tattoo down his spine. That billowing flame at the base of my spine that flared whenever Seth was near.

            He was up, standing on the turnbuckle and egging on the crowd, still buzzed with a victory and adrenaline. His back was turned, didn’t see Elias behind him, guitar in hand.

            The sound of shattering wood echoed all the way backstage. Seth’s body crumpled, knees buckled, caught up in the ropes as he dropped to the mat. His face screwed up in pain.

            On cue, Dean went racing by. The crowd lost it when he went flying down the ramp, slid under the ropes and started wailing on Elias.

            I chewed my finger, felt sick.

            “Go,” a man nearby said. I looked up, saw the match producer. He gestured me toward the curtain. “Go!”

            The hesitation was milliseconds. I didn’t think. It was just my feet pounding on the floor, the crushing sound of thousands of people as I ran down the ramp. Dean had backed Elias into the other corner, a referee trying to drag them apart.

            I climbed the steps, crawled under the bottom rope. Seth lay huddled in the corner, fingers wrapped around his right knee, red high in his cheeks. Spine shifted, leaning over. One hand settled on his back, fingertips brushing the base of his _bushido_ tattoo. My head came close to his, smelled sweat and the heady aroma that was _him_.

            “You good?” My voice broke, terror. “Seth, you good?”

            He huffed, turned pain-filled chocolate eyes up toward me. The strain in his face fell away just a bit. “Knee,” was all he said.

            _Knee. Right knee. Bad knee._ The _knee._

            “Shit,” I hissed, chancing a glance upward. Dean was chasing Elias up the ramp with the remnants of his guitar. “All right. I got you.”

            He slid slowly beneath the bottom rope, sat up on the edge of the ring. I stood at his side, let him settle his hand on my shoulder, shift some of his weight to me as his feet met the floor. The scent of him engulfed me as I tucked his arm over my shoulder, moved slowly beside him as he limped up the ramp into the back.

            The arena seemed to go silent. Then filled with the click of cameras. Someone let out a wolf whistle. Clapping, a heart-felt chant of _burn it down_.

            Backstage, I maneuvered him to the trainer’s room. Dean and Roman were waiting. So was Elias.

            I handed Seth over, watched out of the corner of my eye as the others led him in to see the trainer. Boiling, bubbling red fire in my veins. A white-hot rage.

            My attention turned to Elias, the worried crease of his brow, apologetic. A crack echoed, a sharp stinging pain racing behind. Crimson blossomed on his cheek, a handprint blurred by the heat of tears.

            “You fucked up,” I ground out. My throat was filled with broken glass. I turned away, slammed into the door to the trainer’s room.

            Dean lounged against the wall by the door. Roman glanced up when I came in. He cocked a brow, his smirk a note that he heard what happened. There was no doubt then that so had Seth and Dean.

            “Feel better, dollface?” Dean chuckled.

            I couldn’t stop myself. Threw him the finger. I made my way to Seth’s side. He sat on the table, a towel rolled up beneath his knee, bag of ice settled on top. The pain in his eyes had faded a little more.

            “You good?” I asked quietly. My gaze raced along his form. It wasn’t the greedy sort of drinking in of his body when he wasn’t looking. This was an inventory, a certainty that he was safe, in one piece.

            His fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugged, drew my attention. Hazel met brown. “I am now.” His voice was deep, rich.

            “Of course, you are,” Roman said from behind me. “You heard her bitch slap Elias too.”

            Seth chuckled, thumb traced a path on my palm. His head dropped back onto the table, his throat exposed, Adam’s apple prominent. I had the sudden urge to set my lips against that spot. He swallowed. An ache burst into my chest.

            The space between us burst with electricity. Every cell yearned forward. Buzzed with desire. I felt it crackle beneath my skin, through my hair. Knew the whole world could see it.

            He sat up, propped himself on his elbows. He was so close.

            The rush of his breath. A hint of sweat. Wanting.

            “I should get changed,” he said, a heaviness to his voice. His face paled, smile crumpled a little. Like the words were not the ones he meant to speak.

            I nodded, pushed away from the table, sank back against the wall. Bit my lip, fought back tears of something like rejection as his brothers helped him limp from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

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            Seth limped, favoring his right leg. On the way to the hotel, he’d ridden up front, so he could stretch it out. Dean drove. Roman sat in the back with me.

            It was different being settled in next to his bulk. There was a warmth from Roman that was radiating. Not the blistering heat that came when Seth was nearby, the shockwave of fire that licked up my spine. This was a warm summer evening, sunlight over skin like paintbrush bristles. Something calm. Something easy.

            The highway was a lonely thing, the rise and retreat of street lights and car horns. Everyone rushing somewhere.

            A knot twisted in my throat. I caught my lip between my teeth, bit down. Anything to stop the ache of numbness that settled into my bones. I felt nauseated.

            The quiet was almost too much. Sounds of breathing, an occasional sigh, wheels on the road and cars passing by. No words. No radio. Just… quiet.

            Sometime, perhaps an hour after we left the arena, I let my head fall onto Roman’s shoulder. I closed my eyes, wishing for the oblivion of sleep so that I could forget the sadness gripping my heart like a vice. He shifted, put pulled me in gently, settled me against his chest. His arm closed around me, a protective wing against the world. The warmth that emanated from him swept over and through me. A calm wind after a hurricane.

            The first tear came, streaking silently in silver paths down my cheek. It was followed by more, one after the other in a mute torrent. Roman drew me closer, curved his hands around my head protectively, muffling the sound of sniffling and sobbing. He pressed his forehead against my hair. I heard him whisper something in Samoan.

            Protected, secure, I drifted off into sleep.

 

            Another hotel. Another endless night of driving and settling in to some place for a few hours, never quite being home. It was a melancholy that was so deep that there were no words for it. A homesickness for a place that never was.

            I turned on the television in my room and took a shower. There was freedom there, for the tears. The truth was that I didn’t even know why I was crying, but it felt good in a way. A release.

            The clock glowed three A.M. when I finally crawled up into the bed. There was still a faint ache to my ribs, compounded by the feeling of hollowness in my chest. A constriction, but on nothing.

            I lie awake, watching the shapes that moved across the television screen. A movie, something new that I’d wanted to see but never had time. My phone pinged.

            _Are you okay?_ Seth. A question somehow different than the _you good_ of a ring injury. This one an acknowledgement of a hurt, something deeper than muscle and bone.

            How could I answer? When the words were so convoluted and desperately missing that I had no sense of where they had taken off to. I saw his eyes, brows drawn in worry, something glassy in their depths.

            _Fine_. Simple. Clean. Appropriate.

            A lie.

            _You’re not_. _I know it_.

            Such a definite answer. Focused. As if he knew who and what I was in the depths of my innermost being. I took a breath, felt it move through me, expand my chest to painful proportions.

            _Tired._ Close enough. I didn’t add _worried about you_.

            The phone went quiet. Nothing. Darkness.

            A sigh. I set it on the nightstand, slipped beneath the blankets and wrapped my arms around a pillow. All I wanted was sleep, to forget.

            Faint, a noise at the door that sounded like scratching. Barely audible over the sound of the television. Almost enough to believe it wasn’t real.

            It came again, louder. More insistent.

            Grunting, I climbed out of bed. My hair was a mess, knotted at the back of my head, strands falling against my cheeks.

            A fish-eyed lens view of Seth. The thrum of something running along my spine. Sweat chilled the small of my back.

            I opened the door enough to see him. The light from the hallway was bright, burning through the haze of sleepiness.

            “Hey,” I said, voice a little gruff, leaning against the doorjamb.

            Seth stood there, tartan patterned pants and faded white t-shirt. Glasses on, hair caught in a ponytail. He leaned against the wall, taking pressure off his leg.

            “Hey,” he replied, watching me sheepishly. There was something strange about him, something withdrawn.

            My heart pulsed painfully. I sighed. “Want to come in?”

            His mouth curved up, a little smile that was both boyish and a bit rogue. A nod, a shift of his hips, twisting toward me.

            I pushed the door open, turned away and walked into the hotel room. A rush of heat started at my heels, spread up my legs. The feel of his gaze on me, a reminder that I had forgone my sweats for a pair of shorts and a tank top.

            “How’s the knee?” I turned to face him, caught his eyes sliding up the length of my body. A hop, onto the mattress with the blankets over my bare legs. Nothing much to do for the rest.

            Seth crossed the room, his limp a little more pronounced than it had been when we left the arena. He dropped into the little chair beneath a reading lamp, propped his foot up on the edge of the bed with a groan.

            “Sore. Swelling up a little. I’m supposed to check in with the trainer tomorrow.”

            I looked him over, fought the urge to drink in the sight of him sitting there. Felt an ache like loss in my gut.

            “Llane?” His voice was soft, vulnerable.

            My gaze met his, snapped into focus. The pulse pounded at the base of my throat. Vertigo swept through me.

            “Earlier… in the trainer’s room…” he toyed with the hem of his shirt. He suddenly didn’t want to look at me.

            I waved a hand, cut him off. “Don’t. You don’t have anything to explain.”

            He turned those puppy-like eyes to me. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. A smile appeared, softer than before.

            “Yeah, I do,” he replied. He coughed, cleared his throat. “Whatever this is…”

            His fingers flicked between the two of us, registering something that didn’t quite have a name. Fire blistered my ribcage, swelled inside me.

            “Having you around is… amazing. It’s a fucking sight to watch you in the ring. Like…” He laughed a little brighter, a throaty sound that whispered against my skin. “I could watch you all day.”

            I looked away, knew my face was rosy. Those words were intimate, something more hidden beneath them.

            Seth tugged at his hair nervously. “I’m good at fucking things up. I guess that’s what I’m trying to say.”

            Movement. A rush of cool air against skin. Feet against the carpet. I found myself on the edge of the bed next to his foot. Nervousness settled into my veins.

            “What is there to fuck up?” I asked quietly.

            A rustle. A breath. The feeling of flame and heat bound with gasoline. His fingers brushed my ear, curled behind my neck. Softness. A bone deep sigh of calm. His mouth on mine.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

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            “Is there something you need to tell me?” Stephanie McMahon asked, sitting across from me at her makeshift desk. There was a smile on her face, a little less than pleased and a little more than her trademark smirk.

            A last minute meeting. The show started soon. Spikes of adrenaline burst through my blood.

            Mute. I didn’t know what to say.

            Stephanie leaned forward, looked a little more intimidating. “You’re not in trouble, Llane. There’s not exactly a rule around here about workplace dating.”

            The words hit, a physical blow.

            “I…” My mouth was dry. “We’re not…”

            Were we? Weren’t we? _Whatever it is…_ It didn’t have a name.

            She waved a hand, brushing off my protests. She smiled, looking wholly pleased. “If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. All I ask is that you keep it away from the ring and not in front of the cameras.”

            A lump formed in my throat. I clenched my fingers in my lap. Nodded, feeling reprimanded.

            The tap of heels on the floor. The looming form that was my boss. She gestured for me to stand up. Surprisingly, she settled her hands on my biceps, looked at me with understanding.

            “It isn’t like I don’t know what you’re going through,” Stephanie added softly. “You’re amazing at your job. I don’t have any doubts about you. Or Seth. Not when it comes to performing out there. But personally, if you need something handled, talk to me, okay?”

            The surprise was so strong that the nod came easily. She gave me a squeeze in the arms, a gentle shake. Sent me out with a promise to have lunch.

            When I left Stephanie’s office, I turned into catering and picked up some coffee, a water, some fruit. My stomach turned at the thought of eating, but I had a match. I needed to soothe the nerves.

            I took up a spot at a table near the end of the line. I peeled a banana, tore pieces off, chewed slowly. Anxiety made my skin crawl.

            Shadows. Radiator heat and frenetic energy. Steel chairs against concrete floors. Dean and Roman sank into place across from me, both in their own merch. Both looking worried.

            “What’s wrong, dollface?” Dean asked. His gaze swept over the meager offerings in front of me.

            I forced a smile. Hoped it reached my eyes. “I’m good, Dean. Still getting used to the nerves.”

            He opened his mouth, looked like he was going to let it slide. Roman held up a hand, cut him off. Struck me with the hardened gaze of his black eyes.

            “Why were you in Steph’s office?” Straight. To the point. Roman looked the ancient god questioning the sinner. Lying wouldn’t be tolerated.

            I shrugged. “She wanted to talk about how things were going. Invite me to lunch.”

            Half the truth. Not really a lie.

            Roman’s mouth thinned into a hard line. Eyes flicked to the side, registered Seth’s arrival just as the electric wave swept through me. The chair at my side slid back, groaned as a body heavy with muscle dropped into it. His knee bumped mine beneath the table. Forced myself to stay still.

            “What are we talking about?” Seth asked innocently. The scent of him was strong, twisting my senses.

            “Llane here’s got a date with the boss lady,” Dean said flippantly. “Called into the office and everything.”

            Tension ripped through the space between Seth and me. I did my best not to look at Roman, knew I’d give too much away.

            “Apparently Steph just takes the girls out to lunch these days,” Roman ground slowly.

            _Hell_ , I thought, swallowing against the lump in my throat. _He knows. He knows._

            I felt Seth’s gaze land on me. Didn’t look, couldn’t look back.

            A long drink, sputtering as hot coffee burned the edge of my tongue. Frantic squeals of metal against the floor. The loud crumple of a thin plastic bottle.

            “I gotta get ready. I’ll see you guys later.” My feet hurried off, tossed the half-finished remnants of my food in the trash.

            From somewhere behind, a gruffness, barely audible. Sounded like _keep it in your pants._

 

            My gear felt like armor. Like I put on a whole other version of myself that was strong, fearless.

            I stretched, felt the burn of ready muscles spread through me. My heart pounded, the happy race of oncoming exertion. These moments, right before the action, were the ones I’d come to love. A quiet storm.

            The door propped open just a little. Seth poked his head in. “Got a minute?”

            A nod. A new kind of rush along my vertebrae.

            He kicked the doorstop into place. No hint of impropriety here. Something was clutched in his fist.

            “I brought you something.” One corner of his mouth hitched up, a nervous kind of smile. His fingers folded back, revealing two strips of grey fabric, the words _Black and Brave_ stamped along it. A smaller version of the ones that he wore around his wrists. “The rest of us wear straps in the ring. I thought you might like a set.”

            The pace of my heart changed, slower and faster all at once. I held out my arms, palms up, an answering smile on my face.

            He held one strap in his teeth while he wound the other around my wrist. The fine hair on my skin lifted with each cool touch of his fingertips. He tied it off, repeated the action on the other side.

            “Thank you,” I whispered. I felt the burn of a blush on my face. My hands fell to my sides, eyes turned up to meet his.

            Seth stepped forward, just centimeters left between us, slipped one hand along the side of my neck, curled fingers into the wispy hair at the base of my skull. The gentle warmth of his mouth pressed against my forehead.

            Quiet. Peace. Something like joy.

            “Ro knows,” I whispered suddenly. The words came out before I could stop them.

            He chuckled, a sinful sound. “They both know. They’re just playing at being morons.”

            A breath. The brush of his expanded chest against me. The knowledge that he was drinking in the scent of me.

            Absence. A rush of cold in the space that was before so warm.

            “I got dragged in today too,” he said, pacing a few feet away. The words had a gravity to them. “Seems Steph and Triple H got their stories straight.”

            Fear. A flash of worry in hazel eyes. I wanted to reach for him, forced myself to keep the distance.

            “Are you in trouble?” The words came out small, terrified.

            Seth leaned against the wall, chuckled. “In a way. It felt like I was meeting your dad.”

            The surprise must have registered on my face. His laugh got bigger, a sparkle rising I his eyes.

            “Triple H threatened to rip me in half if I ‘did something stupid,’” he said, putting quotes around the other man’s words. “And let’s not even talk about what Ro threatened to do. Not even a badass like you should hear that.”


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

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            Time off. It rolled around so rarely that it was a phantom, hovering in the background waiting to be seen.

            “Where are you going?” Roman asked as we dragged our things from the back of the rental. It was midnight, the drop off area of an out of the way airport. Dean had gone off with Renee after the show. It was just he, Seth, and I along for the ride.

            “North Carolina. I’m visiting with my older brother and his wife.” I smiled, thinking of the family that waited. “They just had a baby.”

            A soft look passed over Roman’s face. “I remember when JoJo was a baby.”

            I’d seen pictures but hadn’t met Roman’s daughter. She was adorable. Clearly had him wrapped around her little finger.

            “They already have a little boy. He’s six.” I hefted my bag onto one shoulder. “Half the weight of this is souvenirs for him. I think Matt and Jeff have signed away their souls on merch for that munchkin.”

            Roman laughed, pulled out the last bag. The slamming of the trunk was final, echoing. It reminded me of Undertaker’s gong.

            Seth stepped around the side of the car, stuffing his phone into his pocket. Almost as soon as we found out about the down time, he started calling around, talking to friends and family, seemingly planning a party at his place in Davenport. The depth of his eyes brightened when our gazes locked.

            “Everyone excited to see you?” I asked brightly. A part of me ached at the thought of being away from him for a few days. We’d traveled together, worked together for almost a month. It would be odd to be apart. Yet I was glad he’d get to see his family.

            “Pretty much. I just want to sleep in my own bed and walk my dog.” He grinned, flipped up the hood of his sweatshirt. After gathering up his things, he held out his hand.

            Roman turned his back to us, playing at being oblivious. My fingers slid into place between Seth’s, the touch sending shivers along my skin. We walked into the airport, whatever we had simultaneously on display and hidden.

            Our flights left at staggered times. Seth flying west to Iowa at two. I had a long ride south to North Carolina half an hour later. Roman’s flight didn’t leave for Jacksonville until almost four. So we waited together, clustered in a far off section of the waiting area somewhere between all of our departure gates. I sat curled up on the bench with my head on Seth’s shoulder, watching him play Rocket League on my Switch. Roman sat across from us, a book open on his lap.

            It was quiet. No one paid attention to us. Time passed slowly. It passed too quickly.

            A voice over the loudspeaker. Boarding for Seth’s flight. A stone dropped into my stomach. He slipped the game into my bag, stood up, drew me to my feet.

            He threaded our fingers together, gathered our hands to his chest. A shake of the head, the hood falling down to his shoulders. His eyes flicked over my face, never lingering in one place too long.

            “I’ll see you in a few days.” His voice caught, dropped an octave. His forehead settled against mine. Warm breath tickled my cheeks. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

            My lips curved, light touching my eyes. “You, too. I’ll miss you… I guess.”

            He leaned back, scoffed a little. But there was a joy in his gaze that was something wholly new. “You _guess_?” Seth teased.

            A shrug. A brighter smile. Flex of muscle, bend of bone. I drew onto my toes, pressed my mouth to his. Breathed in the scent and heat of him, branded it into my memory.

            There was a sound low in his throat. Shivers and shocks of desire raced through me.

            I pulled away, watched him with something open and innocent in my expression. He squeezed my fingers, dropped them gently.

            The metallic click of a zipper going free. A rustle of sweatshirt cloth. Seth dropped his hoodie around my shoulders, dusted a last kiss along my hair.

            “Let me know when you land.”

            The voice came again, hurrying him away from me. I watched until he disappeared, waiting for him to turn back, to want one last sight of me. I wanted him to see me, to know I was still there.

            He disappeared past the gate, head down. He never looked back.

            An ache burned through my limbs. The world went fuzzy.

            Hot fingers settled around my wrist, tugging me down. Roman pulled me into the seat beside him. “If he looked, he wouldn’t leave.”

            I curled into a ball, tugged Seth’s hoodie around me. It smelled like him. His soap and that deeper aroma that was just his skin.

            “I suppose it’s easier,” I replied softly.

            _Whatever it is_ , I thought _, is it enough?_

            “Lie down. I’ll wake you when they call your flight.” Roman turned a little, curved a knee into the seat, guided me to recline against his chest. One arm held me steady, a promise of protection and safety.

            Silence. For a while.

            “Ro?”

            His answer was a mumbled grunt, enough to let me know he was listening.

            “How many others have there been?” Loaded question. Innocent. Breakable.

            Roman’s arm tightened. He brushed his cheek against the top of my head. The line of his body tensed. His voice softened when he spoke. “No one like you.”

            A kind answer. One that wouldn’t spiral me into wondering how I measured up to the others. Truthful though. Roman was a brother, a solid rock for me in this business. I trusted him.

 

            Early dawn blurred the horizon. I curled in the backseat of a cab, fighting the fall back into the fitful sleep of the plane. Seth’s hoodie was warm, pillow and blanket and reminder of the man a thousand miles away.

            I dug through my bag for my phone, pulled it out, switched off airplane mode. A second’s delay. The repeated vibration of messages catching up on the signal.

            A smile. Half an ache that felt like loss. The first message was a picture. Seth, glasses on, cap on backward, the blur of sleep blunting the sharpness in his gaze. A little ball of fur settled beneath his chin, looking as if it were grinning.

            _Kevin says hi._

            I smiled. Fought the urge to reach out and touch the screen, stroke the image of Seth’s face.

            A series of images. A selfie of Seth drinking coffee on a sofa, Kevin on his lap. A view from a window into a sculpted patio. Snapshot from above, white pillow bunched up behind spilled black hair.

            Glimpses into his life away from the ring. He shared them with me like secrets.

            I held up my phone, took a video of the sun rising over the river passing over a bridge. Followed it with a selfie, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over my hair.

            _Good morning_. Two words. I meant them as something else. Something deeper. Maybe three words, although I didn’t quite know which three.

            I tucked the phone into my pocket, not expecting an immediate response. Eyes closed, warm cheek pressed against the crisp glass. Thought about Seth somewhere in the Midwest, sleeping soundly in his own bed with his dog curled nearby.

            A vibration. Soft ping.

            _You look beautiful_.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

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            “Dollface!”

            The door burst open, banging against the wall, whining on its hinges. Dean stood at the door wrapping tape around his wrists. Roman followed behind, rolling his eyes.

            “Jesus!” I shouted, glad I’d just finished getting dressed. “Knock first!”

            Dean had the sense to blush, realizing what he’d done. He rubbed his hand over his hair, looked away.

            “We need to go over tonight,” Roman said with a glare. Dean grunted, tucked the doorstop down. Open door policy with the four of us.

            We were a week away from a major pay-per-view. The go-home show where things ramped up. I wasn’t on the card, but the three of them were. I was expected to be ringside for one of the matches.

            Starting tonight, I wasn’t just an accessory. Tonight, I got twisted into my own storyline. There was no doubt that it was straight from Stephanie. It felt like a gift.

 

            Pulse pounding. The feeling like everything was amplified. Twitching limbs. Tunnel vision.

            I walked down one of the back hallways, heading toward the entrance ramp. There was a “scheduled” mixed match for Dean and me, but I knew it wouldn’t happen. I took a breath, passed by the door that would soon spring open. Behind it, lurked the bulk that was Drew McIntyre. He’d stopped by to see me earlier, double checked the plan.

            The cameraman walked backwards, framed me in the center of the shot as I walked toward the ring, adjusting my Black and Brave wrist straps. I tried not to brace for the impact I knew was coming.

            It happened in an instant. A door slipped open. Heavy boots slapped against the concrete. A hand clamped over my mouth. An arm like a tree trunk around my waist, lifting me from the ground. I kicked, squealed against the hand muffling my screams.

            The cameraman jostled, dropped something over the lens so that it looked as if the signal had been lost.

            Drew let go, apologized if he’d hurt me. I waved him off, taking an experimental breath.

            I followed a producer into a back room. Limbo, a waiting space until they tied up loose ends outside. A monitor sat in the corner, a set of headphones plugged in.

            “We’ll come get you when we’re ready.”

            Alone. I watched the confusion as our “scheduled” opponents waited in the ring. Dean paced the ramp, looking back as if to call me out. A hush, the whisper of words from the commentary.

            A commotion. Roman burst from backstage, charged for Dean and said something urgently. Wildness passed over Dean’s face. Looked as if he would break something. I fought the urge to smile.

            The show went on, Dean and Roman popping up on camera every now and then “searching” for me. Commentary brought it up, asking where I was. Renee let out a worried sigh, mentioned how no one had seen Seth either.

            Not long after, Seth showed up on camera, dragging a suitcase through the backstage area. Charlie ran up to him, stuck a microphone in his face, told him I’d gone missing, couldn’t be found.

            The look of sheer terror that soared over Seth’s face was heartbreaking. He was so good at conveying things with his eyes. For a moment, I truly believed I had vanished, caught of glimpse of what it might have been for him.

            Seth dropped his suitcase, letting it hit the floor with a crack. He turned, took off through the backstage, his voice shouting for Dean and Roman.

 

            “We’re ready,” the producer said, popping his head around the door.

            A quick trip into the crisp night. The hollow loneliness of an unused trailer. An uncomfortable wooden chair. Tied to it with zipties, a bandana tied around my mouth as a gag. Drew hovered nearby, ready to look menacing when the camera came on.

            The waiting was agony. Fiction and reality blurred for a long moment. Terror rose in my throat, sweat beaded on my skin. Softness crept into the world, blurred from the tears of fear in my eyes.

            Dolph came in, grinned in a way that was both comforting and concerning. The cameraman settled in, shot tight on my captors.

            “Oh boys!” Dolph drawled out. “Lost something?”

            At his side, Drew grunted. Walked toward me. The camera followed, caught me in its sights.

            “If you want her,” Drew growled, “come get her.”

            I struggled, pulling at the zipties. Fear. Escalated to terror. Tried to scream. Drew pressed his hand over my mouth. A jerk of the head, trying to twist away from his touch.

            The camera cut, reset, preparing for the rescue attempt. Frame the door, frame me, a cleared-out space for the fight.

            A shudder ran through the trailer. Pounding on the door. It sprang open, bodies poured inside. The sounds of fists and feet meeting flesh. Grunts of pain. A blur of motion.

            Knowing the camera was still on me, I strained against the bonds. Tried to cry out to the others.

            A fistfight. Nothing more, nothing less. Something terrific.

            “Llane!” Seth’s voice was strained, his body trying to push past Dolph.

            The two exchanged blows, pounding upon one another with fists and feet.

            Dean slipped past the two of them. He stumbled over, slashed at the zipties with something. Blood rushed into my wrists, ankles. Tingles, pins and needles swept through my skin. The gag came away, some of my hair lost in the knot.

            “You good?” he asked quietly, turning his back so the camera couldn’t see. He swept his gaze over me, checking for damage.

            A quick nod. A thump in my chest. Knowing what came next.

            The trailer shuddered again, heavy weight going out the door. The fight spilled out into the parking lot, headed toward the arena. Dean helped me up. Together, we stumbled toward the door, caught sight of the aftermath of the melee.

            Drew was sprawled out on the concrete. Dolph doubled over a railing, face crimson. Roman paced nearby, shaking his head in that way that signaled partially controlled rage. Seth turned, saw us come out of the trailer.

            He sprinted forward, caught me with one hand on either side of my face. The camera circled, looking for the best angle.

            “Are you okay?” he asked, just loud enough for the mic to pick up. The worry in his gaze was more than an act.

            I nodded, the lines still too blurred for me to know what was real and what was pretend. My heart raced, too much.

            Roman closed in, the three of them circling around me protectively. 

            The tension slipped into the ether. Adrenaline ebbed, the crash came in. The camera slipped into view.

            I dragged in a breath, leapt into Seth’s arms. He curled me close, one hand on my back, the other whispered into my hair. I settled into the scent of his skin and sweat.

            Dean slipped into place, pressed his head against the side of mine. Roman’s hand slid into place between my shoulders.

            “You did good, dollface,” Dean said, laughing. “Even I thought you were petrified for a minute there.”


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

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            The car was much larger without the radiant heat and overwhelming energy that made up the other members of the Shield. Their absence was palpable, a hole in the center of my being. It was odd how quickly the three of them had become so entrenched in who I was.

            Seth was in the driver’s seat, dressed in jeans and a comfy-looking black button down. Light flickered in from the streetlights, playing across his features. He still had his contacts in. I missed the glasses.

            A bag of food sat in the back seat, plastic and aluminum containers from a little place not far from the hotel. Steamed rice and teriyaki sauce permeated the air.

            There was a little overlook just outside the city. We’d passed it on our way in that afternoon. The pay-per-view was the next night, but tonight was ours. The day had been spent doing press, visiting a local children’s hospital. Tonight, we had a breather. Space. Freedom.

            Seth backed into a space near the railing, parked. He turned his gaze to me, smiled in a way that was beautifully breathtaking. “Let’s have dinner.” He said it as if we were going to the finest restaurant in the city.

            I blushed, climbed out of the passenger side and followed him to the back. He lifted the trunk, made sure it locked into place above our heads. Spare pillows and blankets had been spread out into the cargo space. He stood at the bumper, grinning as he gestured for me to climb up.

            We sat cross-legged in the cargo area, eating mediocre Chinese with crappy chopsticks. The city spread out below us, twinkling lights in a valley of shadow and fog. Somewhere, far beyond there was a lake or an ocean. The tang of salt and damp was in the night air.

            “This is really sweet, Seth,” I said softly. I turned toward him, hair falling over my shoulder in a tumble.

            He smiled. His fingertips brushed against my cheek, tucked a few strands behind my ear. He looked so much younger than his thirty-two years. Boyish almost.

            “It isn’t a real date,” he murmured sheepishly.

            I leaned closer, settled my hand on his forearm. Fingertips brushed the tattoo etched on the inside of his wrist. A partly burned page. The word _forever_ in script. Aged. Been there half of his life almost.

            “Whatever it is,” I sighed, threaded our fingers together, “it’s wonderful.”

            He grinned, a crinkle at his eyes. Color burned over his face. His eyes were bright in the faded starlight. Flickering heat swelled in my veins. Licked up my spine and turned my body into something more alive than ever before.

            “Llane,” his voice was deep, rich. The way he looked at me made me want to melt. He said my name as if it was some precious thing.

            An instant. The snap of a finger. A feeling of power and giving up, giving in.

            Our lips met, a crush and a gentle caress all at once. His fingertips brushed the curve of my neck, thumbs stroking my cheekbones. It was a kiss of promise, a wish, hope, desire. My skin was on fire from being so close to him.

            Seth tugged me tightly against him, curves and planes, the solidness of his arms caging me against his chest. His mouth swept against mine, smiled, slid along the line of my jaw. One hand bunched into my hair, the other slid down my back, curved against my hip. He fell back, body reclined in the cargo bay, dragging me atop him.

            His breath was hot against my skin. It burned over my flesh. Every point where we touched seared, a million degrees of the scent of him pouring through me.

            Delirium. Desire. A dream.

            He smiled against my neck, held me close in a warm embrace. We were pressed together, every cell and breath. I felt him against me, felt heat burn low inside me at the thought of what could be.

            Panting. A groan of denial. Hands curling around my back. A nose buried in my hair.

            “You have no idea how much I want to,” Seth murmured against my ear.

            I giggled, a girlish sound. I turned, pressed my lips to his jaw. Forced myself to sit up, unwind our limbs. He was disheveled. I could only imagine how I looked.

            A blush settled on my face. I ran nervous fingers through my hair, combing it into something like normal. My heart raced.

            “Just not in the back of a car,” I whispered.

 

            It was quiet on the way back to the hotel. I sat with my head pillowed on the seat, turned sideways to look at Seth, our hands entwined on the console. Midnight had come and gone. Sleep toyed at the edge of my being. Brought back memories of all those nights I’d fallen asleep with my head in his lap. I smiled, a small turn of my lips in joy. In peace.

            “Seth?” I asked quietly, watching the way his fingers moved on the wheel.

            “Hmm?” he murmured, pressing his cheek against my hair.

            “Stay with me tonight.”

            His hand flexed in mine, squeezed my fingers. I felt his pulse jump in his wrist. Electricity sparked between us, lifting the fine hair along my skin.

 

            There was a shyness once the door closed. We watched one another with sidelong glances, never sure what might happen if our eyes met. I gathered up my things, slipped into the bathroom to change. He’d taken my key, gone down to his room to grab clothes. Roman would have questions.

            I wondered what answers Seth would give.

            Scrub. The scent of apricots. A cool, crisp tightness along my face. The drag of a brush through my hair, tearing at the tangles made from searching hands in the cargo space. I watched myself in the mirror. There was something wild, daring in my gaze.

            The door opened, closed again. A bag thumped against the floor. I tied my hair up high on my head, twisting it into a knot. A faded grey tank top, emblazoned with an old My Chemical Romance logo. Loose fitting black pants that dragged the floor, my toes barely visible beneath the hem. The fabric was clingy around the waist and hips.

            I opened the bathroom door, caught sight of Seth in the mirror over the desk. The black button down was draped over the end of the bed. His jeans sat low on his hips, showing the band of his Tapout underwear. His hair was pulling loose from its restraint. My eyes traced the _bushido_ tattoo, drawing down the line that began at the base of his neck.

            Desire burned, branding the image in my memory.

            A step back, the quiet shutting of the door. I leaned against the wall, watched in the mirror as the blush run over my face. I bit my bottom lip, feeling exhilaration tingle through me. Suddenly I didn’t think I could sleep with Seth so nearby. This was so very different from dozing in the back seat of the SUV between shows.

            _Knock. Knock. Knock._

            I jumped, nearly screamed. Felt ashamed when Seth gave the door a little push.

            “You okay?”

            Deep breath. Courage.

            I pulled the door open, saw him head on. Tartan patterned pants. Black and Brave t-shirt. Hair controlled in a knot at the base of his skull. Glasses in one hand, a black travel toiletry case in the other.

            “I’m good.” Every nerve in my body fired with sensation. “I’ll just… uh…”

            He grinned, leaned close. My eyes fluttered. I braced for the feel of his mouth on me. The tip of his nose brushed against my hair. His breath brushed over my ear. His chuckle was devilish as he set his stuff on the bathroom sink, slipped a sturdy arm around my waist, and turned, sitting me at the door. He was still grinning when he shut the door in my face.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

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            The room felt small. Like I couldn’t turn without running into the bulk of him. Seth settled in on the bed, fluffing the pillows behind his back. He sat with his legs stretched out, ankles crossed. The remote balanced on his thigh. ESPN murmured quietly in the background.

            I sat near the center of the bed, back turned to the television, facing him. A pillow was bunched up against my chest, a place for me to rest my cheek.

            It was somehow awkward. Neither of us knew what to say, how to break this sense of unknowing between us. Seth would look at me every now and then, smiling in a boy-on-his-first-date way. I suppose I smiled back in the same fashion.

            “What you did tonight—the dinner, the drive—it was really nice,” I said quietly.

            He looked away, bashfulness rushing over his face. He toyed with the remote. “I wish I could have done something better. Something more.”

            “It was perfect.” Wanting settled in my bones. “All of it.”

            Seth sat up. I felt his gaze like the ghosts of his hands along my skin. His tongue darted across his lips. His breath hitched.

            His thumb slid over my cheek, drew a haunting line over the fullness of my bottom lip. I watched his eyes darken, the irises shrank, pupils blowing wide. His nostrils flared, a predator scenting prey.

            “Llane…” His tone was deep, a husky sound that burned into my core. I ached at the sound of my name on his lips.

            Wanting. Yearning. Desire. The brushing aside of restraint and worry.

            I pressed forward, closing the distance to cradle his face in my hands. Nails scratched gently at his beard, mouth fit against his. I climbed to my knees, wrapped my arms around his shoulders. My tongue brushed his lips, slipped against his own when he parted them. He growled, low in his throat, gripped me by the waist in firm hands.

            Lifting, The quick motion of strong arms.

            Seth leaned against the headboard, settled me astride his lap. One hand dug fingers into my hair, curled against my skull. The other slid down my back, pushed beneath the hem of my shirt. His hand stroked my lower back, thumb sliding along the bottom of my ribs.

            A sigh. Panting. Out of breath.

            His eyes opened, looked up at me in question. His desire was written plainly on his face. It was evident in the planes and lines of his body, the hardness that pressed against my thigh.

            I nodded, too far gone for words.

            Seth trailed his mouth along my jaw. His teeth nipped at my earlobe, scraped gently at that spot just beneath. His tongue traced the length of my neck, sucked at the spot where it met my shoulder.

            He backed away, drew my tank-top over my head. Instinct made me pull my hands back, cover myself. Seth took my wrists gently, pulled my hands away from my breasts. His fingers returned, learning the lines and curves of my sides, stomach, back. He pressed featherlight kisses along my arms, to my shoulders, collarbones. His touch was everywhere but where I suddenly wanted it the most.

            “Seth…” It came out in a throaty whisper. I tried to grasp his hand, get some purchase to bring his touch to my chest.

            He smiled, leaned forward, brushed his mouth teasingly along the swells of my breasts. So light, but almost too much. I bit down on my lip, tried to stay the wanton moan that wanted to burst forward.

            Lips. Teeth. Tongue. Sharp nips. Soothing licks. Suckling kisses.

            He wrapped his arms around me, curled his fingers over my shoulders and leaned me backward. My chest rose, breasts on display for him as he teased me to the edge of crying.

            I couldn’t help it. My hips rocked, pressed down, back and forth. Heat pooled deep inside me. The feel of his cock—hidden as it was—against me wasn’t enough to soothe the ache that blurred my vision.

            “Please.”

            Such a simple word. Begging? Praying? A request for more. For something.

            He trailed brushes of his lips up my breastbone, caught my mouth with a searing kiss. His shirt disappeared. Skin on skin. Molten want.

            Seth walked his fingers down my back, sending shivers down my body. He gripped my hips, pulled me tightly against him, guided my hips in a gentle rock. His head fell back, a groan escaping him.

            A thrill of something like power rushed through me. Every line and dip of his muscles were on display—the definition of his abs, the cut that crested over his hips and disappeared into his pants, the tug and pull of bicep and tricep. My eyes settled on the sweep of his neck. I filled with a sudden hunger.

            I leaned over, brushed my mouth at the hollow of his throat. Set open-mouthed kisses up over his Adam’s apple, beneath his chin. I nipped, bit gently at the tender skin beneath his jaw.

            His hips bucked, pressing us closer together.

            Seth growled. In a flash of motion, he flexed, rolled until he held me against the mattress, his body hovering over me. His hips settled between my thighs, holding them open. The lust burned his eyes in a predator’s gaze.

            He held himself up on one arm, slid the other hand between our bodies, wriggled fingers into the band of my underwear. I bit my bottom lip, closed my eyes as he touched me for the first time. His fingers were deft, finding the spots that made me moan with abandon. Seth brushed his nose against my throat, caressing me in tender kisses.

            Perfect rhythm. The settling of a thumb against my clit. Motion that plunged me over the edge.

            I arched up, pressed the length of my body against him. My hands bunched in the sheets as tension coiled tighter and tighter. It was a neutron star when it came loose.

            Seth’s mouth found mine, devoured it hungrily. The hand between my legs disappeared, was replaced with the insistent hardness of his cock. I pushed hurriedly at the waistband of his pants, desperate to have them off.

            He smiled, leaned back and let his dark eyes trail over my face. The hungry look slipped away, hidden behind something else. Something… hopeful, tender.

            “You look… beautiful,” he whispered. He leaned down, kissed me again more slowly this time.

            It stopped me, arrested my breath and any thought of what might come next. Three words. They could be anything. Everything.

            Seth rolled to the side, pulling me with him. He curled his arms around me, pressed me against his chest. His nose settled in my hair, breathed in slowly.

            “Seth… what’s wrong?”

            I felt the smile against the side of my head. “Everything is perfect.”

            I tried to move, to get my hands on him, to touch him and make him feel the way I did. He grinned, held me still. His mouth met mine, a languid kind of kiss.

            “We have plenty of time for that,” he said, his voice deep and rich. Seth settled me against him, stroking his fingers along my bare skin in lazy shapes. “Right now… I just want this.”

            There was something pleading in his voice. I let my eyes fall closed, nuzzled against the strong muscles of his chest. An arm draped over his stomach. A beautiful sort of peace.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

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            Watery light of early morning. The hazy place between sleeping and waking. Warmth. A weight against my back.

            Remembrance. Flashing images of the night before.

            Gentle nuzzling against the back of my neck. The scratch of a beard on tender skin. The press of skin on skin.

            I wriggled, snuggling into the embrace of strong arms. Bare legs smoothed under crisp sheets. I’d slept in nothing but my underwear. A blush toured my face as I thought of how the rest of my clothes had disappeared.

            “Mmm,” growled the presence behind me. Seth’s mouth pressed faintly against my shoulder. He drew me closer, palm flattening on my stomach, thumb rubbing the line of my ribcage slowly. “You’re awake.”

            “How long have you been up?” I murmured, threading my fingers with his. He was so warm.

            A trail of kisses along the side of my neck. The careful nip of teeth on the shell of my ear. Hot breath washing over skin, sending shivers along my spine.

            “No idea. I didn’t want to wake you.” Seth pressed his nose against my hair, breathing in the scent of me. He moved, pressing his hips against me. The length of his cock settled against my ass.

            Eyes closed. A rush of desire. My nails dug gently into the arm wrapped around me. A faint moan of want.

            Seth chuckled in my ear, a smile in the sound. “Greedy girl,” he murmured, hand skimming my stomach, palm curving to cup my breast. His fingers squeezed, the humid warmth of his mouth moving teasingly along the back of my neck.

            Teeth sinking into the fullness of my lip. A moan stifled, held prisoner in the back of my throat. An instinctive roll of my hips against his cock.

            A hiss escaped him. His hand left my breast, dragged my hips back in an almost painful grip. He bucked slowly, making sure I felt every inch of him. After a moment, he backed away, grunted in frustration.

            His absence cut through the cloud of desire. I crashed to earth, suddenly hyperaware of how exposed I was. Clutching the sheets to my chest, I sat up, searching his face with hazel eyes.

            There was a stern set to his expression. A muscle bunching in his jaw as if he were clenching his teeth.

            Doubt. The deep-seated fear that I was less than… never enough.

            “Seth?” Trembling fingers reached out, drew back before they made contact. Blurring vision, the burning threat of tears.

            His eyes snapped up at the sound of his name. Dark eyes, pupils blown wide, met mine. Silence stretched, spread out until it blanketed the space between us. He looked away.

            Blinking. Willing the tears to slip away, to stay hidden. I rolled away, reached over the edge of the bed for my tank top, tugged it on over my head. A sudden yearning for my Hounds shirt, the feeling of being armored that it brought.

            The slap of cold as I threw the covers back. My heart beat a staccato against my ribs. Shame. A hatred of myself, for giving in to a delusion that could never be.

            _Whatever it is… was… it wasn’t this._

            A few steps, painful distance that spread out like a gulf.

            Roughened fingers around my wrist. A gentle push, my back against the wall. Seth loomed close, eyes unreadable.

            His hands moved up, curved along the line of my neck, delved into my hair. A powerful crush of his lips on mine. An insistent kiss, demanding, hungry. His body pressed tight, trapping me thoroughly.

            Featherlight touches. Fingertips along my arms, digging into my hips, hooking into the band of my underwear. A push, a tug, a whisper of fabric to the floor, tugged away with a foot. Insistent touches, the teasing stroke against white-hot skin.

            I broke away, moan tearing from my throat as his fingers slipped between my thighs, palm pressed against my core. His forehead settled against mine, his panting breath running over me. Seth growled, stroking fingers slowly, teasingly against me, a brush along my center.

            “Tell me,” he murmured, nose brushing against mine. “Tell me what you need, Llane.”

            My arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands brushed through his hair, curled around the back of his neck. Something tender took root in my chest.

            “You,” I replied, breathy, almost sultry. “All of you.”

            Seth let out a faint sound, something like surrender, like acceptance of the inevitable. His hands slipped away, returned seconds later with insistence. Fingers gripped my hips, lifted me from the floor.

            Legs around his waist. A gasping moan at the feel of his cock brushing against my center.

            “Llane…”

            I met his gaze. There was a deep sort of wanting there, but beneath it was a fear that I couldn’t name. My fingers stroked his face, felt the line of his jaw beneath his beard. I nodded, heart pounding.

            Rightness. An overwhelming sense of _yes_ as he flexed his hips, slid inside me. A slow, wonderful stretching that made me want to cry. His mouth pressed against my throat, muffling his own moan.

            A moment, a split second into infinity. Stillness. The buildup of an ache for friction. For movement. For something.

            Seth grinned against my skin as he burst into sudden motion. Every stroke was perfect. He held me tightly, ensuring that I felt every inch, every breath. I whispered his name, a prayer to the god who filled me with ecstasy.

            “Please,” I chanted, “please.”

            Growling, a dark and predatory sound. Seth turned, taking us from the wall to the bed. He set me on the edge, pressed me back into the forgiving softness. A moment, and he had found his rhythm again, his thrusts more powerful than before.

            I let out a whimper, felt his thumb settle against my clit. Two seconds, a blink, a breath. I crashed over the edge of pleasure. His name fell from my lips in a deep moan.

            He leaned over me, his movement becoming erratic. I wrapped my arms around him, dragged my nails down this back as he chased his own release.

            A strong arm slid beneath me, pressed me tight against his chest. Fingers gripped my thigh tight enough to leave bruises as he stilled, grunting as he spilled himself inside me. Every twitch of his hips sent a shock shivering through my limbs.

            Seth drew me up into his arms, pressed gentle feathered kisses along the line of my jaw and across my face. He whispered something against my skin.

            My fingers drew patterns along his back. An ache began in my chest, somewhere along where my heart was. It was a strange feeling.

            He turned his chocolate eyes to me and smiled shyly. “Are you… okay?”

            I returned his smile, swept my gaze over his face, trying to memorize this moment. Words failed me. A nod, the bashful downturn of my eyes, afraid to look at him, to give away what was burning within me.

            Gentle hands, a finger beneath my chin, turning my gaze up to meet his. The brush of his lips against mine. Slow. Languid. Tender.

            I etched this moment into my mind, wrote it in ink on my heart. A sudden fear swept through me, an ache of not knowing, of pushing down a secret.

            How could I ever say how much I loved him?


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_(GIF owned by wrestlingfanatic on Tumblr)_

 

            “You good, dollface?” Dean asked, a worried tint to his voice. He hovered near the wall, doing cross-chest stretches to warm up. “Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

            I looked up from where I sat on the floor, stretching my hips and hamstrings. My brain was fuzzy, not entirely sure what was going on. “Huh?” I asked.

            “Nerves?” he asked. The shadow in his eyes hinted that he was trying to give me an out.

            “I guess.” I shrugged, looked away, counted the bricks on the cinderblocks on the wall.

            My mind whirled, thinking about what happened between Seth and me. I worked hard to push them away, to keep them locked away so that they wouldn’t distract me from the show. They had an important match against Drew, Dolph, and Braun. I had to be at ringside, a Hound at all costs. I couldn’t let my heart cloud my head.

            After a moment, I got to my feet and moved toward the door. Dean lifted a brow in question. My lips parted, an answer ready. The words wouldn’t come. Instead I shook my head and turned away.

            I walked down the hallway a bit, swinging my arms, warming up, trying to distract myself from the thoughts swirling through my head.

            “Llane,” came the rumbling voice from behind me. My heart dropped into my toes. A radiant heat swallowed me whole. “What the hell is up with you?”

            Roman sounded worried, though somewhere beneath there was frustration layered in his gruff timbre. He blocked the hallway behind me, ensuring that I couldn’t go anywhere until I answered to his satisfaction. He put a hand on my arm, turning me toward him.

            “Something’s up,” he continued. “I’m worried about you.”

            I forced a smile, hoping I could fool him. When it came to the three of us, Roman was often nearly omniscient. Even half-truths were difficult to get past him at the best of times.

            “I’m fine, Ro. Just nervous.”

            He shook his head. “Bullshit. You haven’t been yourself all day. Not since we left the hotel.”

            A sudden, deafening silence. The weight of a realization settling on his shoulders. Roman swelled with a quiet rage.

            “What the fuck did he do?” he growled. Fire snapped in his black eyes. Tension rippled through his muscles.

            “Nothing!”

            I winced. Too quick. Too vehement. A ready answer to something I’d already contemplated. Prepared.

            Roman turned, quick as a snake. His heavy frame pounded down the hallway. I expected the room to shake when he slammed open the door to the locker room. He pushed his way in, a shark in the water, scenting blood.

            Grunts. The meaty sound of a blow. A thump and a gasp.

            I turned the corner, saw Roman with his hands fisted in Seth’s gear, nearly lifting the other man from the floor. A bench sat overturned nearby, a gym bag spilling its contents on the floor. Dean had an arm between them, trying to wedge them apart.

            The shout caught in my throat. I stood, frozen in the doorway, waiting. Terrified.

            “What did I tell you?” Roman spat, shaking Seth as if he were a ragdoll.

            Seth fought back, trying to get the bigger man to let go. “What the hell, man?”

            “Stop talking,” Roman said, slamming Seth against the wall again. “I told you to keep your shit together. I _told_ you that I would beat you to within an inch of your life and send you back to Iowa in a fucking body bag. Didn’t I?”

            “I didn’t do anything!” Seth protested.

            Dean wedged between the two of them, finally getting Roman to let go. Seth sank back against the wall while Dean walked the other man a few feet away.

            Roman watched Seth with a glare. “You better fucking apologize. You hear me?”

            Seth opened his mouth to respond, caught sight of my horror-filled face instead. He deflated. Glanced at Roman as if measuring up a rabid dog. Skirted against the wall of lockers to get to my side.

            He reached for me, brushed his fingers along my forearm soothingly. “Llane?”

            I bit back tears as I looked up at Seth. In the ring, I was so strong, fearless. Everyone who came at me, I was willing to take on. But here, with this moment and this man standing in front of me, I didn’t have a voice.

            Seth turned his back on his brothers, brought his hands up to cradle my neck. His fingers slid into my hair, thumbs settled just beneath my jaw. “What’s wrong?”

            Fear, hot and blinding. Of rejection. Of being mistaken. Of not knowing what might come from this.

            _Whatever it is…_

            “Hurry it up over there!” Dean grunted, straining at having to hold Roman back from spearing Seth through the wall.

            A deep breath. Adrenaline spilling like gasoline into my veins. Hazel met brown.

            “I think…” I sighed, clenched my fists trying to hold myself together. The words were a whisper. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

            Silence. It fell like a hammer upon the anvil of our lives. Roman stopped struggling against Dean. Blood roared in my ears. The floor dropped out from beneath me.

            Seth murmured my name softly, took a step toward me. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I looked past him, beyond his bicep to where Roman and Dean stood waiting. There was sympathy in Dean’s face, as if he’d known this was going to happen from the beginning. I couldn’t read the expression that drifted over Roman’s face.

            A touch. Fingers against the side of my face. The electric shock of Seth’s proximity.

            _Whatever it is…_

            “I think I want you to,” Seth returned, voice deep, low. “So I’m not alone in this.”

            My eyes snapped up, met his with surprise. He looked vulnerable, open. A depth in his eyes that made him suddenly the most beautiful thing on the planet.

            “Just put him out of his misery, dollface,” Dean said from across the room.

            I let out a little whimper, put my arms up around the back of his neck. A rise to my toes, drawing Seth down so that our mouths met. He wrapped his arms around me, held me close. A smile against his kiss.

            “Now that’s taken care of,” Dean called out, dropping a hand on our shoulders. “Can we get on with this match?”

 

            The boys were doing brilliantly. They’d been able to keep Braun out for most of the match, focusing on Dolph and Drew. Without the Monster Among Men, the two of them were no match for the Hounds of Justice at their full strength. I paced at ringside, keeping close to their corner.

            Roaring. A boot on canvas. The shouts of thousands of people. _Burn. It. Down_.

            Drew, face to the mat, a knockout blow. Seth fell into the cover. A count that seemed to take forever.

            A hand around my face, arm ratcheted up behind my back. The burn of muscle twisted in the wrong direction. Dolph grabbed me from behind, started dragging me up the ramp. Dean moved along the apron, making sure Seth wouldn’t see, get distracted.

            Roman caught sight of me, came racing to my rescue. Eyes widened, trying to warn him. Braun barreled into him from the side, knocking him ribs first into the steel steps. I screamed against Dolph’s hand.

            Black spots waved in front of me. A sort of rage that I hadn’t felt before in the ring. They thought I was helpless. Just a girl.

            I went limp, made Dolph stop moving, readjust his hold. A split second of opportunity. My boot slammed down on his instep, surprising him enough to release my twisted arm. I stepped wide, wrapped one arm around Dolph’s forearm, the other hand grasping him near the shoulder. A squat, lift from my hips, a sweep of his leg and a pivot around the center.

            Dolph slammed hard onto the mat at the end of the ramp. A judo throw that would have made Rhonda proud.

            Somewhere distant, the bell rang. The crowd popped, whether at me or at the fact that The Shield was victorious in the ring who knew. One of the commentary tables was destroyed. I could only imagine what had led to that kind of destruction. Dean rolled Drew out of the ring with his boot.

            Seth stood at the ropes, looking out at me with something beautiful burning in his eyes. I looked down at Dolph, sneered. “Keep your bitch ass down,” I spat before running toward the ring.

            I slid beneath the bottom rope and scrambled to my feet. Roman clawed his way in from near commentary. Dean paced, frenetic. I threw myself at Seth, jumped into his arms and shouted in exhilaration.

            “That’s how we do!”


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

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            “I’m proud of you,” Stephanie said from across the table. The café was small, out of the way. Much more low-key than I expected for the boss’ daughter. “You’ve blown us all away.”

            A smile. The burn of a blush over my cheeks.

            “Thank you,” I replied quietly. “You don’t know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

            Stephanie waved her hand, dismissing anything more I could say. She picked at her food, seemingly more interested in talking to me than eating. “Hunter saw something in you, and he was absolutely right. Llane, you’re one of the best that I’ve seen in years. Technically. On the mic. With the crowd. Putting you with The Shield was _the_ best decision I’ve made in a long time.”

            I didn’t know what to say. Gratitude wasn’t enough. The woman sitting across from me had changed my life in every way. I didn’t think I could ever repay her for it.

            The smile on her face changed. Turned softer. A little lean forward, elbow on the table, chin resting in her palm. “So how are things going with Seth?”

            An expansion of the ribs. A thump of my heart in my chest. The violent rush of blood through my veins, pulse quickening.

            “It’s… wonderful,” I murmured, unsure of how to put into words everything I’d experienced in the past few weeks. Being on the road with Seth and The Shield was like being with family. A gypsy existence with a few blessed days of anchor, normalcy.

            “I’ve seen the footage of the pay-per-view,” she said. Her eyes sparkled. Mischief? Enjoyment?

            “Steph, I swear…” I started, feeling my guts knot up. “We’re keeping it away from the cameras. Just like we promised.”

            She laughed, a sound warm and full. “Llane, I’m not upset. Trust me, I know you guys are being professional. Roman and Dean are good at helping you out. I’ve seen it. But you can’t hide the way you look at one another. You can’t hide that.”

            A sigh. Uncertainty. How much to say? Was I talking to my boss or a friend? Could they be one and the same?

            “You know that feeling you get in the ring?” I asked softly. “That feeling of being invincible?”

            Nodding. A murmur of agreement. Something like a wistful smile.

            “That’s how I feel when I’m with him.”

            “You feel strong. Powerful.”

            I agreed vigorously. “I think I’m my best self when I’m around him.”

           

            “The tournament’s starting,” Seth said from the driver’s seat. Dean and Roman were passed out in the back, both having gone through hell during their matches that night.

            “Hmm?” I murmured, too taken by watching the lightning chasing across the clouds. A storm was coming. I just hoped we’d make it to the hotel before the bottom fell out.

            “The Madden tournament on UpUpDownDown,” he replied. I could hear the excitement in his voice. A few months had taught me that he was nothing if not a videogame junkie.

            And coffee. I’d learned that the hard way.

            “When?” I perked up, wondering if I’d get to watch.

            “At the house show on Wednesday. Xavier’s setting up the bracket now. We’re on different sides.”

            Mouth open, ready to respond. The haze of late night moving away to let the words through. I caught them, made sense of their letters and syllables.

            “We?” I raised a brow, turning in the passenger seat to face him.

            He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. There was a faint smirk on his face that infuriated and infatuated me at the same time.

            “Yeah, we.” He rocked his finger between the two of us. “Me and Ro are on the same side, so I’m going to have to take him out. But I got you put on the Smackdown bracket.”

            I tried not to laugh. “If you want me to kick your ass at Madden, all you have to do is ask, Rollins.”

            His head fell back against the headrest, a deep belly laugh rumbling through the car. I stole a glance in the back. The others were passed out.

            Seth’s mirth spilled over into me, crackled like lightning along my skin. In these moments, quiet and stolen on the road away from cameras and crowds, I felt as if he were only mine. No one else saw these snippets of him—the laugh that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that came from somewhere deep within, the way his fingers and hands could be so gentle. I built a world with these moments, insulated us with them, blocked out the rest of the world with their value.

            He reached over, threaded our fingers together, brought them to his lips. Hot breath over the back of my hand. Goosebumps racing along my skin. Tingles from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.

            “That’s what I love about you, Llane,” he said, voice dropping a little. My whole body thrilled at that four-letter word. “You don’t take any of my shit.”

             I closed my eyes, thought about the expanse of that one word. Four letters. Nothing special alone, but together—they changed my whole world.

            “Well, you’re cute, so…”

            He laughed again, the way he did in the ring. That snarky little chuckle that was endearing and annoying all at once.

            It went quiet, the only noise the sound of the two snoring softly in the backseat. Seth checked the GPS, made sure we were on the right exit, followed the murmured directions to the hotel just off the highway.

            He pulled up to the door, grinned over at me. “Ro really likes this new arrangement,” he whispered conspiratorially.

            I blushed, still not comfortable with the fact that Roman and Dean knew we were sleeping together. It wasn’t as if it was something we advertised, but it seemed obvious to everyone around us. Dean would go off and room with Renee if she was around. Seth ended up crashing in my room. So Roman ended up with by himself, which he seemed to enjoy.

            “Yeah,” came the sleepy grunt from behind me. “Now you have to deal with his ass doing sit ups at four in the morning.”

            Roman pushed open the door, rolled out to put his feet on the concrete. Dean followed, staggering a little, as they made their way around to the back of the car. Seth rolled his eyes at the two of them.

            “Why should I have to do sit ups when I’ve got you to give me a workout?”

            The laugh came out of me in a rush. I slapped him in the chest with the back of my hand, partly embarrassed, partly feeling fire kindle within my skin. “Shut up and get the bags. I want to go to sleep.”

            I went to climb out of the car, back to Seth as he made sure he had his wallet and phone. A creak of leather. Gentle rock of the car. A sting ran through me.

            My face went red. I couldn’t believe it. Not in public. Not where people could see.

            “Did you just _slap me in the ass_?” I squealed, turning to face a mischievously grinning Seth Rollins.

            He shrugged, slipped out of the car before I could retaliate. I covered my hands with my face, trying not to screech like a teenager. There was something about the way Seth made me feel calm and energized and happy and soothed.

            “God, I love that man,” I mumbled before climbing out of the car, slamming the door behind me.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

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            “Gah!” I shouted, trying not to throw Xavier’s controller on the floor. It was hard enough to keep myself from cursing since we were filming an episode of UpUpDownDown. Losing made it even worse.

            “Rollins said you were good!” Cesaro teased, moving his team into position on the screen. He reclined back in his chair, controller held loosely in his lap.

            “I _am_ good!” I retorted angrily.

            Stand up, stretch, readjust in the seat. The frustrated bounce of my neck from one side to the other. Focus.

            The room slipped away, receded into nothing but the pixels on a screen and the piece of plastic in my hand. All I could think of was making my way to that final slot in the bracket, of beating Seth at his own game.

           

            “Overtime!” Xavier exclaimed from just behind me. He laughed, waving Big E and Kofi over to watch. The three of them were like a wilder version of Dean, their energy spread out, imbued with some chaotic force. I liked them.

            Cesaro had stopped the teasing. His tag team partner, Sheamus, was sitting not far behind him, heckling me. “Ya might get true him, lass, but ya gotta get true me next.” His Scottish baroque made it a little less threatening and a little more hilarious.

            A buzzer sounded on the screen. The final score settled into the ticker along the bottom of the screen. Beaten in overtime by a field goal.

            I jumped up, nearly flung the controller across the room. Held out both hands in a thumbs up, turned them sideways so my thumbs met in the middle.

            “Looks like I just lowered the bar, fella!”

            Big E exclaimed, acting as if he were trying not to laugh. Xavier wriggled his way between the Swiss man and I, facing the main camera that recorded the episode. He looked back and forth between the two of us.

            “Round one is done, ladies and gents. We have Llane Black and Bo Dallas moving on to the next round. Check us out next time when Seth Rollins faces Curtis Axel and Miz faces Becky Lynch. Until then, it’s ya boy…”

            I tuned out the rest of it. As soon as the camera cut, I gave Cesaro a faint scowl.

            “You lost on purpose,” I said accusingly.

            He had the sense to look shocked. He put both hands on his chest. “Me? Why would I do that?”

            I walked up, stood toe-to-toe with the man who was easily a foot taller than me. There was no looking him in the eye, but I made sure I looked as intimidating as possible. “I don’t know, but I know there’s no way I should have won that. You let me get the last play through.”

            “Are ya accusing ‘im of cheatin’, lass?” Sheamus asked.

            Not sparing a glance to the Scotsman. I learned long ago that I could intimidate my brothers if I stared at them long enough.

            “I’m saying he took a dive.”

            A dirty word in our business. Almost as bad as screwing someone over.

            Xavier, Kofi, and Big E stood in a loose arc behind me, watching the conversation as if it were a tennis match. If there had been popcorn, they’d have been munching it happily.

            I stared. Refused to blink or back down. My eyes burned. If Cesaro didn’t give in soon, I didn’t know what my next move would be. I was already on my only option.

            “Look,” Sheamus said at last. He leaned in, wedging his broad shoulders into the space between Cesaro and I. “We all want to see Rollins taken down.”

            “Kofi _won_ the tournament this year. He actually _beat_ Seth in a champ versus champ game.”

            “Yeah,” Xavier slipped in. “But think of how embarrassing it would be if his _girl_ took the crown. And in the last championship round, too.”

            Shock. A deep-seated sense of unease. Of unfairness.

            “You can’t let me skate through the tournament,” I replied.

            “No one said you were going to skate,” Xavier coaxed. “You have to play the rounds, and you have to win them, and you’re really good enough that you can do it on your own. But say you have an off game. We got your back.”

            I crossed my arms, tried not to crack a smile. “You going to do the same for Seth? What happens if he takes a loss in the first round like last time?”

            Xavier shrugged. “Then he loses, and you get what you get. But as long as he’s in the tournament, you’re in the tournament.”

            “It’s kind of a horrible thing to do to your friend, you know,” I said, trying to be stern.

            “He’d do the same thing to us without question. And you know it.”

            No response. An unrelenting certainty that Xavier was right. I knew Seth was a sore loser of the highest order. If he had the chance, he’d do the same thing that they were doing.

            A long silence. The mental gymnastics of weighing options and talking myself into deception. An assurance that it was all in good fun.

            “Alright,” I said at last. “I’ll do it.”

           

            I slipped into the hotel room, expecting darkness, the faint sound of Seth snoring in the deepness of sleep. The lights were low, a warm glow diffusing across the cream carpet. Sheets turned down, my favorite clothes folded at the end of the bed.

            Seth was no where to be seen.

            Vertigo. The feeling like the earth stopped spinning beneath me. A nagging wonder. Worry.

            I pushed the thoughts away, dropped my bag by my suitcase. Gathered up my things and made camp in the bathroom. A pile of towels. Steam rising from the showerhead, turning the mirror to fog. The rough scrub of cloth, stripping the makeup from my face. Stinging astringent, burning eyes.

            Perhaps it was tears instead.

            Water scalded along my back, streamed through my hair, prickled along my skin, sank into my pores. I cried, not quite understanding why, not knowing what this fear and uncertainty meant. Perhaps it was guilt, the knowledge of what I’d agreed to with Xavier. Yet it felt deeper, as if I’d been stripped away of everything that made me who I was. Bared to my soul without a stitch of protection.

            Wrapped in a towel, I sat on the edge of the bathtub staring at the steam that streaked the mirror. Time slipped away. Silence other than the sound of my own breathing. A room perfectly ready for me, but no one else.

            My heart sank as I opened the bathroom door to continued silence, loneliness. I dressed, tied my damp hair up into a knot and climbed into the bed. The pillow had the faint scent of Seth, as if he’d been lying there recently. The ache of missing him was surprising in its intensity.

            I turned the bedside lamp off, curled beneath the cool sheets, hugged the pillow tight to my chest. The bed was too big.

            The desire to talk to someone swept over me. I didn’t quite know who, but just the thought of someone who would listen to what swirled around in my head. It was too late to call one of my brothers, too early to call my friends on the west coast.

            Dragging, shifting across the room to dig my phone out of my bag. I slid my finger over the sensor, heart turning over painfully when there weren’t any messages. A lump formed in my throat.

            A swipe. Scrolling through a list of names, numbers, trying to find someone who was awake, who would understand.

            So simple. Slightly nerve wrecking.

            I typed the message and sent it before I could second guess myself.

            _Ro, have you talked to Seth?_

            Silence. No response. The tell-tale little check mark appearing at the bottom of the message. _Seen. Read._

            No set of animated dots, no ellipses to trigger the anticipation of a reply. Why didn’t he respond? Why didn’t Roman answer?

            Another number. A slither of terror down my spine. _Dean. Where’s Seth?_

            _Renee, do you know where Seth is?_

_Hey Bayley, you seen Seth?_

_Finn? You talked to Seth?_

_Seth? Where are you?_

_Are you okay?_

_Seth?_

_?_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

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            I woke up the next morning to a heavy weight against my back. A well-muscled arm settled over my hips, curling me back into the warmth of a half-naked body. The scent of shampoo and a skin-deep musk twisted itself over me, cocooning me in its embrace.

            “Seth?” I asked quietly, not truly believing that he was truly there. I wanted to turn toward him, but his hold on me was tight and strong.

            There was a faint mumble from behind me. Drawn backward, held firmly, a nose buried in my hair. A grunt.

            “Seth,” I said again, my voice rising. The fear from the night before came flooding back. Coming to the hotel, finding my things, Seth’s bag in the corner, the room empty. I had no memory of falling asleep. Just of waiting… wondering why no one would talk to me.

            His hand moved upward, palm splayed on my lower stomach. I pushed away the feeling of butterflies.

            Wriggling. Dragging myself from his arms to sit up beside him. My skin burned when I looked at him, the way he curled on his side, one arm tucked under his pillow, the other left limp in the place where I had been. His hair was a mussed, frizzing mess. Lips parted slightly in sleep. Sculpted chest on display.

            A shove, heavy and determined. Fear turning to frustration.

            “Wake up,” I said sternly, giving him another shove. “Now.”

            I slipped from the bed, stood alongside with my arms crossed over my chest. Perhaps I didn’t look intimidating, but I felt that way. Glared. Waited for him to rise.

            He grunted, growled into the pillow. Rubbed his eyes vigorously with his knuckles. He opened one eye, looked at me as if glowed with a blinding light. A deep breath, the contraction of his core muscles, rolling, sitting up on my side of the bed. Seth reached for me, a faint look of tenderness on his face.

            “G’morning,” he slurred, trying to get me in his arms. I stepped back, saw the uncertainty slip into his expression. “Llane?”

            “Where were you last night?” The words came of their own volition. Desperation flooded through me. I wanted—needed—to know. But I was more than a little terrified of what the answer might be.

            He sat up a little straighter, awareness creeping into his eyes. “I ran into Jimmy and Jay at the arena after the show. They wanted to grab dinner. You were filming with Woods, so I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

            “Did you come back here before midnight?”

            “Yeah,” he replied, drawing the word out. He looked at me sideways. “After dinner I came back and changed clothes. I wanted to go to the gym before you got back. Llane, you know how I get when I get in the zone. One minute, it was eleven-thirty. The next it was almost one.”

            A whisper in my thoughts. A ring of truth. Plausibility.

            Blood burned in my cheeks. Shame turned my stomach.

            “Seth, I…”

            They stopped, caught in my throat, threatened to choke me.

            “Hey,” Seth murmured, reaching out, drawing me toward him by the elbows. I stepped into the space between his knees. He brushed his fingers against my chin—forced my eyes to meet his. “I know I’ve got a shitty reputation. I’ve earned it in the worst way. I don’t blame you for thinking the worst.”

            Every word tightened the knot of guilt that settled leaden around my heart.

            “But this…” He pointed between the two of us. “This means something to me, Llane. _You_ mean something to me.”

            Smooth motion, flex of muscle and bone. He stood, towering over me, engulfing me in heat and the scent that was wholly him. An intoxicating mix.

            His hands slid along my neck, thumbs stroking the underside of my jaw. Calloused fingertips brushed the sensitive flesh near my ears.

            “I love you, Llane,” Seth whispered vehemently. His forehead settled against mine. My hands found a home on his waist, the warmth of his skin soothing the ache in my soul.

            “I love you,” he said again, surer this time.

            I glanced up, saw the way his chocolate eyes drifted shut. His fingers cradled the base of my skull. The tip of his nose brushed mine, our breath mingled in the confined space between us. The fire of desire started smoldering against my spine, stoked by the relief that he was still mine. That no one had come along and swept his attention away.

            My heart felt fit to burst in my chest. I couldn’t understand how he had become such a fixed point in my life so quickly. Dean and Roman were like family, an extension of the brothers that I grew up with, protective, playful, both chaos and calm. But Seth—he was so different. Perhaps he had been that way from the beginning.

            My hands slid around his waist, curved along the lines of his back. He held me against him, an arm slipping down, gathering me to his bare chest. I felt the weight of his hand settle against the back of my head. Seth cradled me tenderly, eyes closed as if he were trying to memorize the way I felt in his arms.

            I stood up on my toes, brought my mouth to his. He sighed, clutched me tighter.

            Gentle. Tender. Filled with longing and unspoken promises.

            Arms around his neck, hugging him firmly. My cheek pressed against his, the scratch of his beard against my skin. The brush of my lips against his ear.

            “I love you, too, Seth Rollins,” I whispered.

            His hold softened, as if he thought I might break in his grasp. At last I met his gaze, saw the emotion swirling in the depths of his eyes. Something glistened along his lashes.

            Tears.

            “Oh,” I cooed, tracing my thumbs beneath his eyes to wipe them away. “Don’t do that. Please.”

            Color spilled over his cheeks. I smiled, a watery sort of grin.

            “Wait until I tell everyone that I made the big bad Kingslayer cry,” I said teasingly.

            A chuckle. The smallest twitch of his lips upward.

            “I’m sorry,” he said seriously, his voice dropping into a deepened timbre. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

            A gentle kiss against the cheek. Settling on my feet, looking up into his face. Kept in the protective circle of his arms.

            Shrugging. Needing to leave it behind us. Something new had happened—something that opened into a world of a million possibilities. I opened my mouth to speak, stopped when a massive banging started on the door.

            “Rise and shine, losers,” said Dean’s muffled voice. There was mumbling, a quick conversation.

            I rolled my eyes, tried not to grumble at Dean interrupting whatever new thing was blossoming between Seth and me. A reluctant disentanglement. Feet padding across the carpet. The metallic _shnick_ as I opened the door.

            Dean stood in a pair of ripped up jeans and an Ice Bear t-shirt. A beanie was pulled down over his hair. Roman was just behind his shoulders, looking a bit more presentable in a pullover and dark washed pants. I glanced quickly between the two of them, wondering if we’d missed a call about a meeting or something.

            “Morning, dollface,” Dean said, giving me a warm embrace. He let me go, lifted his chin in the direction of the room. “Morning, sweetheart.”

            Roman laughed. I turned just in time to see Seth throw Dean the finger before disappearing into the bathroom. “Get dressed,” Roman said, his tone leaving no argument. “We’ll meet you two in the lobby in twenty minutes. Don’t be late.”


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

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            I stepped off the elevator, looking around for Roman or Dean. Seth followed close by with one hand settled on the small of my back. He looked good in a pair of fitted jeans and a _Misery Signals_ t-shirt that skimmed his torso perfectly. His hair was caught up in a knot, held out of sight by a flat brimmed ballcap. My stomach flipped over when I looked at him. He was so beautiful.

            “Over here, dollface!” Dean called from across the lobby. He and Roman stood near the little café tucked away in the corner. Seth slipped his hand in mine as we crossed over to them.

            Dean let out a faint whistle, gave me an exaggerated once over. He held up both hands, gave me an ay-ok sign. I blushed, reached up, tugged my hair over my shoulder. I wore a pair of grey leggings, black camisole that came down to mid-thigh, and a teal blouse. With my knock-off Doc Martins, I was almost as tall as Seth.

            “You look great,” Roman said, shooting Dean an annoyed glance. “We’re a little underdressed to hang out with a beauty like you.”

            Seth grinned, squeezed my hand. “What did you two have in mind?”

            “We’ve got a little surprise for you.” Roman pointed at me, smiled in that magnanimous way of his.

            Following after Roman, I shot Seth a questioning glance. He shrugged, clearly as clueless as me. A valet brought the SUV up to the door. Roman climbed in to drive, Dean taking shotgun. Seth and I climbed into the backseat. My body buzzed with nervous energy, wondering what the two of them had cooked up.

            We drove for what felt like forever. It was probably a half an hour or so, but anxiety made time stretch on tortuously. Seth kept up a steady stream of chatter with the others, trying in his practiced way to get information out of them. When Roman wouldn’t give anything away, he started in on Dean. I’d learned quickly that Dean usually had a hard time denying a request from Seth.

            “Seriously,” Seth wheedled. “What’s going on?”

            Roman glanced at me in the rearview mirror, smirked. “If you keep asking, you’re going to ruin the surprise.”

            Silence. Huffing from the man in the seat beside me. Seemed he didn’t like being left in the dark either.

            At last, we pulled into the parking lot of a quaint little restaurant. Several other cars dotted the lot, some of them vaguely familiar. I raised a brow, some sense in the back of my mind prickling.

            Roman parked near the entrance, hopped out and opened my door. He held out a hand, helped me out. I made a face, suddenly on guard with the excessive chivalry. He smiled, enigmatic, all-knowing.

            Seth swept around the back of the SUV, slid an arm around my shoulders. We walked behind Roman and Dean as they headed inside. It was quiet, the calm before a storm. The door closed behind us, an unsettled feeling permeated through the air, a vacuum sucking the oxygen from the space.

            “Surprise!”

            Dozens of voices. The whisper of streamers and balloons falling from the sky. Colors everywhere. A hand-lettered banner hanging on the wall behind a table laden with a giant cake.

            Roman looked back at me wearing a Cheshire grin. “You left your wallet open. I saw your license.”

            A party. A _surprise_ party. A surprise _birthday_ party.

            “Ro…” I whispered, trying not to cry. He gathered me into his arms, hugged me firmly. Dropped a brotherly kiss on the top of my head.

            “You’re one of us now, Llane,” he said softly. “Happy birthday.”

            When Roman stepped away, Dean was ready to take his place. He swept me up into a warm hug, lifting me off the ground and squeezing me tightly. “Happy birthday, dollface.”

            I pressed a kiss to his cheek. His beloved face was blurred by tears. “Thank you,” I whispered.

            Voices began to make sense. The Irish lilt of Finn and Becky. A high-pitched squeal that I was certain belonged to Liv. Drew stood in one corner talking to Elias. Bayley and Sasha grinned, waved, arms around each other. Renee was at the sweets table, carefully lining candles up around the edge of the cake.

            I wriggled from Dean’s grasp, turned toward Seth. “Did you know?”

            He gave a little nod, a shy smile. “It was Ro’s idea. I just spread the word.”

            His declaration from that morning came flooding into me. A significance attached to the timing of those three little words. A gift, something that he might give to me in secret, something that meant more than an object to be stored away.

            I looked from one of them to the others, taking in the fact that they were there, that they were like the family that I had left behind. Full of love, support, joy, chaos and calm. My road family, brothers and sisters, friends and confidants, everything I thought I had given up for this business that I loved.

            “I can’t believe you guys did this,” I whispered through tears.

            Arms out, waving the three of them toward me. Engulfed by the love of my boys—the ones who welcomed me to Raw with gusto. They wrapped me tightly in their arms, heads pressed together around me.

            “You belong to The Shield now, dollface,” Dean said with certainty. “And we’ll always take care of you.”

            Roman nodded, murmuring something in soothing, lilting Samoan. I didn’t understand the words, but I grasped the meaning. Family. Acceptance. Love.

            The three of them dropped kisses on my hair. A rush blew through me. Turned my skin to tingles of electricity. Feeling a thousand times taller, heart swelling within my chest. A feeling of centeredness, of finally having an anchor in a world that moved far too fast.

            “I love you guys,” I said at last. Rising to my toes, pressing a kiss to Dean and Roman’s cheeks. Reaching for Seth, twining our fingers together. Settling into the calm they brought.

            “We love you, too,” Seth said, voice deep and rumbling against my ear.

            Renee slipped over, pulled me away from the three of them. She hugged me fiercely. “I hope you like chocolate cake.”

            I glanced down at the sweets. There were cupcakes, cookies, and a cake with _Happy Birthday Dollface_ written on it in bright yellow icing. A giggle erupted out of me.

            “Dean ordered it.” Renee nodded, rolling her eyes. “It’s perfect.”

            I got swept into the crowd, showered with hugs and wishes for a happy day. Selfies and pictures, some for the public social media, others for ourselves. Finn snapped a picture of me in the middle of Bayley and Sasha, the two of them kissing me on the cheeks. A video of me hanging from Braun’s massive forearm. Becky and I sharing a bowl of quinoa. Standing behind a table, lights low, thirty candles glowing on the cake in front of me as my friends surrounded me, singing off-key.

            Deep breath. Make a wish. Blow out the candles.

            I caught sight of Seth’s grinning face, flames dancing in his eyes. Quiet. Peace.

            _I wish he could be mine forever_.

            The lights came up, Renee took charge of cutting the cake, dolling out slices on plates. People milled around, eating from the catering table or sampling the sweets. I swept my gaze around the room, took in the people who had taken time from their lives to celebrate me, someone they barely knew. I couldn’t find the words to acknowledge how lucky I was.

            A tap on the shoulder. Pivot. The flash of dark eyes and a wicked grin. I opened my mouth to speak, sputtered when something smashed into my face. It took a moment to realize it was cake. It dripped in gooey chunks down to the floor. Some of it smeared across my face. Icing had gone up my nose.

            I raised a hand, wiped it away so I could breathe. “Happy birthday, baby,” Seth said.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

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            “Four days?” I queried, looking around at the three men standing with me.

            Roman nodded, his hands wrapped around the straps of his gear, tugging it away from his body. He was dripping with sweat, having just finished a singles match against Baron Corbin. The Shield wasn’t on the card—not as a unit—and Dean and I had opened the show with a mixed match with Bayley and Finn. I’d been showered and dressed for almost two hours, waiting on Roman so we could leave.

            “We’ve been on the road for three weeks, dollface. They owe us a few days peace,” Dean said, leaning against the wall. “I wanted a week, but they can’t spare Renee for that long.”

            Vertigo. Opportunity. Uncertainty.

            Four days off from the road. Four days to do whatever we wanted, to go wherever we desired. Together or apart. Time off. A rare commodity.

            I glanced at Roman, knew immediately what his plans would be. “Tell JoJo I said hello. And that I’ll bring her something from our next big trip.”

            He grinned, secure in knowing that we didn’t fault him for going home to his wife and daughter. I couldn’t wait to meet that little girl. She was obviously amazing—after all, she had the Big Dog wrapped around her finger.

            Dean studied his nails, trying to look nonchalant. “Go home, D,” I said, some kind of gravity in my voice. “Go enjoy your time off with Renee. You guys have earned it.”

            His shoulders relaxed a little. As if he needed my permission to go his own way.

            I walked over, drew them into a hug, pressed kisses to their cheeks. They were my brothers, my best friends. I loved them with a fierceness that was beyond anything I’d ever imagined.

            “I love you guys. And you definitely deserve a break from me and this one,” I grinned, jerking my thumb over my shoulder toward Seth. I couldn’t see him, but expected that he was making a face. “Be safe.”

            They embraced me tightly, kissed me on the top of the head. Wandered away on their own, ready to go home.

            Warmth. The crackle of electricity along my skin. The fine hair at the back of my neck lifting with awareness. Rough fingertips trailing gently down my forearm, circling my wrist.

            Seth searched my face with his mahogany eyes. He twined our fingers together, pulled me into his embrace. In a moment, his mouth was on mine, tender and insistent.

            My free hand twisted into his shirt as he slid his other hand into my hair, palm curling around my neck. His hold was firm, body unyielding even as he radiated an aura of gentleness. I sighed against his mouth, felt his tongue brush against my lips. Fire engulfed me, burning from the bottom of my feet to the ends of my hair.

            “Come home with me,” Seth murmured against the corner of my mouth. His nose brushed against my cheek, inhaling the scent of my skin.

            My heart lurched, skipped a dozen beats, rushed headlong into the void. I could hardly breathe. Home. _His_ home. Davenport.

            His family. His friends. His _life_.

            I didn’t trust my voice. I simply nodded. I felt his grin.

 

            We landed in Davenport at eight. It had taken a few hours to find a flight with seats for us at the last minute, and the wait at the airport hadn’t been particularly fun. I’d dozed on and off during the trip, but my nerves turned me inside out so much that I didn’t truly rest.

            An Uber picked us up from the main gate. Seth gave the driver the address in nearby Buffalo and settled in for the twenty-minute ride. He tugged me against his side, curling me up in his zippered hoodie. He rested his cheek against the top of my head as he watched the city go by.

            The house was on a quiet street just on the edge where Davenport blurred into Buffalo. It was a ranch style set on a quiet street. The earth-toned bricks and blue-grey siding gave nothing away about who lived there. The garage door was shut firmly, the surrounding street silent in the early morning.

            I followed Seth to the front door, somehow expecting to hear barking. The house was cool, the air stale with the scent that comes from disuse. He sat our bags by the door and took me by the hand. I caught glimpses of a kitchen, living room, patio as we moved through the house, down the hall.

He pulled me into the room that was clearly his bedroom. The bed was large, the frame made of wrought iron, piled high with comfy looking pillows and a dark grey comforter. Seth stepped back from me, giving me a moment to take in the one place in the world that was simply _his_. There were remnants of his younger self—an autographed band tour poster framed and hanging on one wall, a precarious stack of CDs that ran the gamut of straight-edge punk. Books lined a low shelf beneath the television—thrillers and horror novels with worn paper bindings. The closet door was ajar, hiding the clothes that he didn’t take on tour with him.

I turned around, caught sight of Seth watching me. He’d stripped off his hooded jacket, shoes, socks. He looked shy and unsure.

“It’s you,” I whispered softly, crossing the room to wrap my arms around his waist. The staccato beat of his heart settled against my ear. “It’s you and it’s perfect.”

Seth’s body relaxed, as if he had been waiting for some stamp of approval. He encircled me in his arms, held me close.

Time slipped away. It stretched out into infinity and compressed into nothingness. It was just the two of us, standing somewhere outside of the universe.

“You’re exhausted,” he said at last. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll figure out what to do with our vacation later.”

 _We. Our_. Words of ownership, a sense of partnership, togetherness.

 _I wish he could be mine forever_.

I nodded, wriggled out of my clothes. My bag was down the hall by the door, and I didn’t want to leave him. When he tossed his shirt onto the floor at the end of the bed, I swept it up and slipped it on. His scent and body heat overwhelmed me, sent me weak at the knees. I blinked, pushed back the desire that turned my head.

Together, we turned back the blankets, climbed into the bed. I settled against his side, head pillowed on his chest. He wrapped an arm around me as he pulled the blankets up over us. His lips brushed my forehead, settled there for a long moment.

“I love you,” I murmured against his skin. Sleep delved into my mind quickly, drawing me under to peace and rest.

 

Wakefulness came in fits and starts. Jet lag and disorientation made it worse. Time was a construct that didn’t matter to me anymore.

Something small and heavy lay against my side. I blinked, tried to figure out where I was. The heavy thing moved, a shift of the mattress, something cold against my cheek. I opened my eyes, came nose to nose with a pitch-black ball of fur.

We stared at one another for a split second. A little pink tongue appeared, licked up my cheek.

“You must be Prince,” I said, scratching the Pom under the chin. He let out a happy little rumble followed by a window-rattling bark.

Footsteps fell heavy in the hall outside. The door creaked. “Shit, Prince, don’t wake her up,” Seth hissed as he came into the room. He stopped when he saw me already sitting up, his shirt falling off one shoulder.

“Hey,” I said groggily.

He grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Hey. Feel better?”

“A thousand times. What time is it?”

“Two,” he leaned back, glanced down the hallway. A little clatter of nails came on the hardwood. A little Yorkie appeared at his feet. The adorable Kevin. “Uh… my mom’s here.”


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

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            A sudden onset of panic. Fear flooding my veins like venom. I stared at Seth, wordless, terrified.

            “Hey,” Seth murmured softly, crossing the room with Kevin at his heels. He sank down on the side of the bed and took my hand in his. “Hey, it’s no big deal.”

            “What do you mean?” I squealed. “Your _mother_ is here. Right now.”

            I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, felt my heart sink in my chest. “Oh God,” I whimpered, trying to burrow beneath the blankets. “I look horrible. I can’t meet your mother like this.”

            Seth grinned, slightly goofy, slightly endearing. “Llane, she’s going to love you no matter how you look. And personally, I think you look amazing all the time. Especially when you’re in the ring... kicking ass…” He let out a little growl. “Fucking perfect.”

            Heat rushed into my cheeks. He knew what that growl did to me. “That’s cheating.”

            He shrugged. “Whatever works.” He dropped a kiss on the top of my head, scooped Kevin up from the floor and deposited him in my lap. “Seriously, though. My mom is going to adore you. She already does, really.”

            “What have you told her, Seth?”

            He curled up beside me, head propped on his palm. “Just that you’re funny and beautiful and great at what you do. And that you make me incredibly happy.”

            I ducked my head, tried to avoid his gaze. My heart skipped a beat or twelve. The words burrowed into my soul, took up root in a place where they could grow and flourish. _I make him happy_ , I thought giddily. _He doesn’t even know how happy he makes me._

            Kevin wriggled, pawed his way into the space between us. I scratched his ears, tried not to laugh when Prince decided he wanted to take up the same spot.

            “I brought your bag in,” Seth said at last. He tilted his head, gestured toward the suitcase sitting by the bathroom door. “I promise, it’s going to be great.”

 

            I took as much time as I dared. A quick shower, a fast drying of my hair and a splash of tinted sunscreen to give my face some color. Pulled on the most presentable clothes that I had that were clean.

            Deep breath. Focus. One foot in front of the other.

            Prince followed alongside as I walked down the hall. I slipped into the living room, felt the air change as the ceiling rose and the room opened. Seth’s furniture was dark, leather and durable woods and iron frames. A giant television sat on a stand against one wall, a series of game systems plugged in and stored beneath.

            Voices came from the kitchen area. I tiptoed in, peeked around the corner. Seth leaned against the counter, a cup of what I expected was coffee in his hand. A tiny woman stood not far away. Her hair was cut short, pale brown, and her eyes were a faint watery blue. She talked animatedly with Seth, Kevin caught up in her arms.

            Seth saw me before his mother did. His dark eyes sparkled. “Hey,” he said quietly.

            I stepped fully into the kitchen, pulling my hair over one shoulder nervously. It was the anxiety of being called to the principal’s office. Of not knowing the outcome of an important decision. Waiting.

            To be judged.

            His mother turned to me and smiled in a way that reminded me so much of her son. She sat Kevin gently on the floor and crossed the room, arms held open. “I hope you’re Llane, otherwise he’s got some explaining to do.”

            Her genial manner made me smile. I nodded, at a loss for how to act around this woman who was so important to Seth.

            She gestured me in. “Oh, give me a hug, honey. I’m Holly.”

            “Hello,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry I took so long getting ready.”

            Holly shushed me, pulled me over to the counter where a plate of food waited. She wasn’t satisfied until I was settled in and started eating. “Don’t you worry about that. I know how exhausted you must be after everything you guys do.”

            Seth grinned at me from over his mother’s shoulder. He mouthed _told you she’d love you_ before taking a sip of coffee.

            “You help Seth run the school when he’s gone, don’t you?”

            “I keep those boys out of trouble, if that’s what you mean. Marek does most of the work when Seth isn’t around.”

            “I’ll take you out by the school sometime this week. We don’t have that many students right now, but you can meet some of the guys.” Seth came to lean on the end of the counter, settling between his mother and me. “Show them how the girls do it in the biz.”

            I grinned, feeling more at ease. “I’d like that.”

            Holly watched the two of us, smiling to herself as if she had figured out something terribly important. She reached out, patted Seth on the arm. “Well, I’m going to head home. You’ll come by for dinner before you leave.”

            She said it as a certainty, not a request.

            “Yes, Mom,” Seth muttered. Holly grinned, kissed him on the cheek. Then she gave me a firm hug and was gone.

            The second the door shut behind her, I sank into my chair. Adrenaline flushed into my system, promising a crash sometime soon.

            “Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again,” I spat.

            He stepped back, held both arms open, palms out. “What? It went fine.”

            I slid down from the stool and poked him firmly in his muscled chest. He backed up a step or two. “The first time I met your mother was supposed to be in a nice outfit and a nice restaurant where I could leave a good impression. It wasn’t supposed to be in your kitchen at two in the afternoon just after a shower in raggedy clothes!”

            Seth opened his mouth, looked me over, closed it again. He put his hands down to his sides, sighed. “Llane… it’s just my mom.”

            “It’s your _mom!_ The _most important_ woman in your life! And I meet her looking like this!” I gestured down at my clothes. Tears burned my eyes. From frustration. Anger. Embarrassment.

            “You’re beautiful,” he said as if it fixed everything. “You’re always beautiful.”

            The tears came, flowed down my cheeks in rivers. My heart turned over, ached, dropped into my toes. It felt as if the world had dropped out from beneath me.

            “Llane,” Seth queried, reaching for me. I didn’t fight, let him wrap me in his arms. He shushed me softly, stroked his fingers through my hair until I calmed.

            “Hey, look at me,” he said at last, hooking a finger beneath my chin. “I didn’t know that it meant that much to you do it officially like that. I’m sorry I took that from you.”

            I wrapped my arms around his waist, let my senses focus on the sound of his heart beating, the scent of his skin, the heat of his body. I let it take me away into a place where I felt safe and happy. Where it was just Seth and me, alone.

            “I’m sorry… I just…” The words got caught in my throat. Tangled themselves in my thoughts until I couldn’t figure them out. “I want the people important to you to like me.”

            Seth kissed my forehead tenderly. “They will. They already do.”

            I blushed, looked away, got distracted by piles of black and brown fluff circling my feet.

            “See? Kevin and Prince already love you, and they don’t like anybody.” I couldn’t help it. I giggled.

            “There’s my girl,” Seth said with a smirk. Just before he kissed me in a way that burned through my entire body.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

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            “It’s really quiet around here,” I said as Seth drove us across Centennial Bridge over the Mississippi. His car was dusted with a thin layer of dog hair, the muted bass of metal music coming from the stereo.

            “Feels like a small town, even though Davenport is huge,” he replied, reaching for my hand.

            I threaded our fingers together, bringing his hand up to my mouth. My gaze went to the rolling expanse of the Mississippi, wondering what it would look like to drive across it with the sun on the horizon. It made me think of home on the Cape Fear River, metal and concrete bridges, the tang of brackish marshes, the sound of water racing over rocks, sluicing against the shore.

            We crossed into Illinois, slipped past the Moline city limits. Seth knew his way around, could probably navigate to his school with his eyes closed. I could sense the change in him as we got closer. He smiled crookedly, glancing my way.

            “So… uh… I know I’ve told you before, but they don’t really call me Seth around here.” He said it as if he had been keeping it a secret, something he was dropping on me at the last minute.

            I grinned back. “I know. It’ll take some getting used to. Is Colby different from Seth?”

            He laughed. “Colby is a nerd. Like… hardcore.”

            “So not different at all then.”

 

            The school looked a lot like my old training ground. A bare-bones ring. Heavy mats for fall training. Springboards. Heavy bags. A wall of mirrors to check technique. There was the heavy drone of the heating system as it cycled on. A group of students—eight or nine maybe—were working with a trainer on the heavy mats.

            “Lopez!” someone shouted from across the room. The person coming across the room was nearly as tall as Seth. He had a wide smile, hat turned around backwards, hooded sweatshirt. There was a shadow of stubble along his jaw, the peek of a sleeve of tattoos under the cuff of his hoodie. “What’s up man?”

            “Not much, just a couple days off. Thought I’d stop by and see what I could do for the new recruits.” Something in his body language changed. He relaxed, dropped the persona that he carried around everything and everyone else. Here, in this building, with these people, it was as if his true self finally came through.

            The two of them shared a brief, back slapping kind of hug that was characteristic of guys who’ve known each other for years. I hung back, leaned against the side of the training ring, watched them get reacquainted.

            “Marek, this is Llane. Llane, this is Marek.” Seth turned between the two of us as he made introductions.

            Marek held out a hand. I grasped it, shook firmly. “So you’re the other Black,” he said with mirth.

            “And here I thought I was the only one,” I retorted, glancing sidelong at Seth. “Colby here keeps a lot of secrets.”

            “I like her,” Marek said to Seth, though he pointed at me.

            “Me, too,” Seth said, hooking his arm around the back of my neck, drawing me in against his side. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

            I rolled my eyes. “Go on,” I harrumphed, patting him firmly in the middle of the back. “Go show them how it’s done, Architect. I’m going to hang out and watch.”

            Hopping up on the edge of the ring, I settled into lotus position and waved him away. He leaned forward, pressed his lips against my forehead, and smiled. “I hope you like Colby as much as you like Seth.”

            I reached out, snatched his hat, plopped it rakishly over my own hair. “I don’t know. I haven’t really seen Colby in action, so…”

            He squeezed my knee, growled in that way that made my thoughts turn to dark, carnal things. A chuckle bubbled out of him when he caught sight of the blush rising on my cheeks. He walked away, calling out greetings to the group of students as he did.

 

            Time seemed to stand still at Black and Brave. Seth—it was so hard to think of him as Colby—worked one-on-one with every student in the class. He was patient and kind, helping them to figure out what they needed and how to fix what was wrong with their technique. There was something in his eyes when he walked them through the moves, explained to them the importance of doing everything safely.

            My chest ached. A wonderful ache. The kind of ache that came when your heart was full to bursting with love and adoration. Like there wasn’t anymore room in the space between ribs and lungs and muscle for my heart, for how much love that it held for him. In the ring, he was breathtaking—powerful, fast, stunning, amazing. Outside the ring, he was sweet—genuine, loving, adorable, passionate. Here, he was mature—a mentor, leader, guide, teacher. Each time I saw a new side of him, I felt myself fall further in love.

            After what felt like moments but was more likely a few hours, he found his way back to me. He was smoothing back his hair, tying it back into the knot it had escaped during the class. His eyes were bright. The smile on his face was bright and charming.

            Seth leaned against the ring beside me. He tugged up his t-shirt, wiped his face with the hem. I could smell the heady musk of his soap and his sweat. It was inexplicably intoxicating.

            “You’re good at this,” I said quietly. “Like… really good. You can tell you love it.”

            He blushed, though it was difficult to tell with his face already ruddy from exertion. “These guys want to learn. It’s not that hard.”

            I shook my head, having learned in the last few months that Seth Rollins was hardheaded. It seemed Colby Lopez was the same.

            We stayed around for a few more minutes, talking with individual students and the other trainers. Marek wanted to know if I’d like to join as a trainer, help give some specialized attention to the women who went through the program. I told him I’d think about it. Seth looked both quizzical and highly pleased.

            They were in the corner discussing it when my phone rang. Slipping it from my pocket, I saw that it was Dean. I waved the device in Seth’s direction before stepping out into the crisp evening.

            “Sup, Dean?” I answered.

            “Hey, dollface. How’s the vacation?” I could hear Renee in the background.

            “Fine. Met his mom yesterday. Long story.” I cringed whenever I thought of that first meeting with Holly Franklin. It still made me want to knock Seth out. “We’re just getting ready to leave Black and Brave.”

            “Shit, you two don’t know the meaning of vacation, do you?” Dean whistled. “Have a beer. Sleep in. Skip the workout. Do something crazy.”

            Eyes rolling, I couldn’t help but grin. Dean was so much like my brothers that it wasn’t funny. “I’m with you on that skip the workout. But Crossfit Jesus isn’t having it.”

            Dean cackled on the other end. Renee, faintly, asked what was so funny. “That’s why I love you, dollface.” He took a moment, caught his breath. “So, reason I called—they want us to do the Mixed Match Challenge this season. Figured you’d be in, so I said yes. We good?”

            “I guess so, if you’ve already agreed,” I teased.

            He grunted. “Slap me later. But we need a name. Design does the shirts and shit, but we gotta have a name.”

            Before I could respond, Seth came out of the front. He found me quickly, tucked his arm around me, cutting out the chill of the air. I took the phone from my ear, put it on speaker, caught Seth up.

            “Team name? You two?” He thought for a moment, shrugged. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? _Lunatic Llane_.”

            A second of silence. Then, Dean and I together—“Perfect!”


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

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            Seth closed the bathroom door quietly, running a towel roughly through his hair. His flannel pajama pants settled low on his hips, showing off the chiseled lines of his torso. I curled in the bed beneath the blankets, reading one of the worn paperbacks from his shelf. Prince curled on my lap, Kevin settled on the pillow nearby, his head resting on my shoulder. It was homey, calm. Anchoring after the whirlwind of the last few months.

            A flash. The faint click of a camera shutter. I glanced up over the edge of the book, saw Seth lowering his phone. There was a soft look in his eyes.

            “What?”

            He crossed the room smoothly, leaned against the wrought iron post at the end of the bed. His eyes were dark, beautiful in their depth. The corner of his mouth skipped upward in a gentle smile. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

            Heat bloomed across my cheeks. Butterflies took flight in my stomach. It was wonderful how he could make me feel with just a few words.

            I held the open book over my face, trying to hide the blush and the goofy grin that stretched over my lips. My eyes met his, watching how his gaze traced the shape of me. His chest expanded, a hitch in his breath.

            His smile sent warmth through my whole body. He put his knee up on the end of the bed, started crawling up toward me. Prince protested, giving a little bark of indignation before hopping from the bed onto the floor. Kevin didn’t move, staking his claim on my pillow.

            Seth reached out, pulled the book gently from my fingers, laid it face-down on the nightstand. He sat back on his heels, my outstretched legs trapped between his knees. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

            “Colby…” I began.

            He shook his head, brushed his fingers against my cheek. He leaned forward, lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. I whimpered against him, the flame of desire bursting to life within me.

            We drew apart, our foreheads resting against one another. “I don’t feel like Colby when I’m with you,” he said quietly, eyes closed. He kissed me again, more tenderly this time. “You bring out the best parts of me. Seth is the real me, the best parts, the things you make me want to be.”

            I took his face in my hands, fingers brushing soothingly through his beard. His skin was warm, fragrant with his soap and the aura that is wholly him. “I saw you tonight. I saw you with your students, your friends. There are parts of you that are Seth. But there’s so much of you that is Colby… here…” I pressed one hand against his chest over his heart.

            He settled his calloused palm over my hand, wrapped his fingers around my palm. He looked away, suddenly shy. “Which do you prefer?”

            An ache, tightness in my throat. The burning that preluded tears. An overwhelming desire to hold him, to promise that there was nothing about him that I didn’t love. Didn’t cherish and hold in my heart like a secret just for me.

            “You,” I replied softly. “Every bit of you—Seth or Colby or whoever else you’ve been—is what I prefer. There are so many sides to you, so many things I want to learn. As long as you’re _you_ , I’ll be happy.”

            His shoulders relaxed, the set of his brow smoothing out. He stretched out beside me, head propped up on his palm. “It feels strange when you call me ‘Colby,’” he said at last. “I’ll get used to it, I guess.”

            I smiled, turned onto my hip so I faced him. “It’s strange for me, too, you know. I’ve always known Seth Rollins wasn’t your real name, but it’s who you are to me. But it’s just a name—it doesn’t define you.”

            Seth slipped his hand up to settle against my neck, fingers curling behind, pulling me forward. His body heat was blistering, stoking the fire that licked along my spine. When he spoke, his voice was deep, dark, predatory. “I like it when you say it.”

            He pulled me tight against him, lips crushing against mine. I whimpered into the kiss, felt the hardened length of him against my belly. The flames inside me roared, his body the gasoline that made it explode.

            I wrapped my arms around him, fingers wrapping in his damp hair. Somewhere far away, Kevin yipped and disappeared.

            Seth rolled onto his back, taking me along, settling me on top of him. My knees settled on either side of his hips, as if they were made to be this way for him. My hips brushed against him, making him groan and tighten his hold on me.

            We drew apart, panting slightly. He looked up at me with bright eyes. “I love you, Llane Black,” he whispered. For a moment, the passion receded, became replaced with tenderness and adoration.

            I took his hands, laced our fingers together as I sat up, center pressing firmly against his cock. “I love you, too, Seth Rollins.” I squeezed his hands gently. “And I love you, Colby Lopez.”

            He chuckled for a moment but cut off with a hiss when my hips rocked. His eyes closed, neck arched, head pressed into the pillows as he tugged his hands away, settled them on my hips, holding me firmly against him. A gentle pressure. Guidance. My hips rolled again, a poor substitute for what I really wanted to do.

            I was two seconds away from stripping off my clothes when my phone rang. I grunted, tried to ignore it. Waited for it to go to voicemail. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. All I wanted was the feel of Seth’s hands on my skin and his cock buried deep inside me.

            Silence. The start of my ringtone over again. Joined by the sound of Seth’s phone. He punched the mattress with his fist.

            “Someone really wants to talk to you,” he ground through clenched teeth.

            I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I whimpered, loathe to climb off him.

            Silence again. Then it began all over.

            Grumbling, I rolled away, snatching my phone off the nightstand. Behind me, I heard Seth doing the same. I looked at the screen, saw Dean’s face. Cursed under my breath.

            “What?” I growled.

            “Well, hello to you too, dollface,” Dean said, sounding slightly hurt. “Am I interrupting something?”

            I rolled my eyes. _So much_ like my brother. “Kinda.”

            Dean chuckled darkly. “You’re the one who answered the phone.”

            “You’re the one who won’t stop calling.” I wriggled, suddenly hyperaware of the tingling of my nerve endings.

            “I got good news. Hush and I’ll tell you. Then you and Seth can get back to boning.”

            “Fuck you,” I said, not quite hiding my grin.

            “Married, thanks. But Seth can take my place.” Dean laughed. “Seriously, dollface. You’re gonna want to hear this.”

            “Get on with it then,” I encouraged.

            Before Dean could say anything else, I heard Seth behind me. “You’re fucking kidding me!”

            I turned, looked back to see him standing up, pacing with his phone to his ear and a wild light in his eyes.

            “Ro called Seth,” Dean said in my ear. “I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

            “Tell me _what?_ ”

            “Development sent down a message. Shield is getting all the belts.”

            “Whoop-de-doo. You couldn’t tell me that tomorrow?”

            “No, dollface, listen. Shield is getting _all_ the belts,” he repeated. He paused, giving me time to work it out.

            Time stopped, compressed. My brain lurched into gear, finally making sense of what my tag-team partner said. It took a long moment before it settled into my thoughts, arranged itself into an organization that I could understand.

            “No. Fucking. Way.”

            Dean laughed. I could hear the cocky grin in his voice. “Piece by piece over the next few months, but yeah. Steph called me herself.”

            “Holy shit,” I said, sinking onto the floor in a boneless heap. “Holy fucking shit.”

            “Yeah, holy fucking shit,” he replied. “You’ve earned it, Llane. Seriously.”

            I couldn’t help it. I started to cry. From the moment I started training at the Performance Center, this was all I’d ever wanted. I thought it would take years to work my way up, to get a shot like this on the main roster. But in the course of a few months, I’d found myself here—with the three best guys in the world as my team, a man I loved with all my heart, and a friend who I wouldn’t trade for anything. It was unreal.

            “Don’t cry, dollface. Seth will kill me.”

            Gentle fingers. The phone being pried from my grasp. From far away, a murmuring voice. “Thanks for the message, Dean. She’ll call you in the morning.”

            Seth sank into the floor facing me, his face a mixture of worry and joy. He reached out, brushed tears from my cheeks. “You get the same message I did?”

            A nod. An expanding breath in my chest. I grinned. He grinned back. _Holy shit._


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

_(GIF owned by moxley-master on Tumblr)_

“Dollface!”

I dropped my bags, took off running when I heard Dean’s voice in the backstage hallway. The grin that spread over my face was ecstatic as I raced toward him. He sat his stuff down, opened his harms, snatched me up in a bear hug. I hugged him tightly, remembering the way he smelled of cologne and laundry detergent.

I felt his smile against the side of my neck. One harm held me around the waist, the other cradled the back of my head. My legs were around his waist, feet tucked behind his knees. My heart swelled, ached with a reminder of how much I loved Dean like a brother.

“It’s so good to see you,” I mumbled against his shoulder.

He gave me one final squeeze before setting me down. “Good to see you, too, dollface.”

Electricity shot across my skin. Seth was nearby. I smiled wider, feeling suddenly more whole than I had before. All that was missing was…

“Ro!” I squealed, launched myself toward him. He laughed that deep rumble of his and drew me in against his bulk for a warm embrace. For some reason, he always smelled like the ocean breeze, salt and sand and the spray of water as it broke on the waves.

He squeezed me until I could hardly breathe. When he finally let go, he dropped a quick kiss on my forehead. “JoJo sent you something.”

Roman leaned down, started rifling through his bag for something. He finally produced a folded piece of paper with my name written on the outside in crayon. I opened it up, saw a drawing of a ring, stick figures that were decorated and labeled, and a crude reconstruction of the Raw women’s title. At the bottom, in a childish scrawl, were the words _Llane is my champion!_ JoJo had even signed it in the corner.

I held it against my chest, lip trembling as I fought back tears. I’d never met Roman’s daughter, but she had sent me this wonderful gift.

“Galina says JoJo loves watching you. She said as soon as you get a shirt of your own, she wants one.”

“Oh, Ro!” I turned the picture around, showed it to Seth and Dean. They spent a few minutes admiring the artwork, talking about which one of them looked better, complementing the child’s skills—enthusiastically concurring that she captured their likenesses perfectly.

Seth settled his palm on the center of my back, drawing me unconsciously closer to him. I smiled, realizing that in that moment I truly felt complete. With Roman, Seth, and Dean, I knew that I was safe. Protected. Cared for and supported. They were my road family. The family I got to choose.

“You okay?” Seth whispered against my ear.

I nodded, wiping away the tears that still glittered on my lashes. “I feel like I’m at home.”

 

We were geared up, waiting in gorilla to head out. It was nice having the three of them at my side when I went down to the ring. I liked being at ringside for them, even if it was just one of them. Whenever the producers would let me, I’d make sure I was with them.

My music hit. They’d modified it a bit, remixed it with the Shield music so that the crackling voice of the radio calling out _Sierra Hotel India Echo Lima Delta_ was audible. I loved it.

I burst out of the curtain, rounded the corner of the LED board. The crowd popped, noise and flashes of lights that were almost too much to manage. My ears rang. Adrenaline flooded my system, making me suddenly jittery and hyperaware. The screams and cheers got louder as the boys joined me.

Seth came up beside me, grinning as we stood side by side. He held up his arms, fists tight. I mimicked his posture, following his lead when he pounded his fists into his chest, punched downward before we strutted down the ramp. People behind the barriers shouted my name. I reached out, gave high-fives to a couple kids. I saw a sign with my name on it for the first time.

I had _fans_. Not just as part of the Hounds of Justice, but just on my own.

With a whoop, I took off running, slid under the bottom rope, rolled to my feet in the center of the ring. The boys followed, climbing the steps. Seth took up residence in the corner to my right, Roman climbing the turnbuckles to my left. Dean and I filled in the middle, stepping up on the bottom rope, leaning over, mugging for cameras and fans alike. The cheers were deafening.

“Introducing first, accompanied by Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, and Seth Rollins, representing The Shield…” the ring announcer JoJo—a completely different JoJo—said emphatically. “The Unpredictable Llane Black!”

I hopped down from the rope, stretched my neck, shook out my arms. “I’ve got a nickname now.”

The boys gathered around me, their foreheads pressed against my head. Roman murmured something in Samoan, a ritual for me in the ring now. It calmed me, put me in the perfect zone to fight and win.

“Kick her ass, dollface,” Dean said, punching me lightly in the shoulder.

“You got this, Llane,” Seth said confidently. I could see it in his eyes, could see the bits of Colby I’d seen at Black and Brave peeking out.

I nodded, took a deep breath.

“Her challenger, accompanied by Titus O’Neil and Apollo Crews, representing Titus Worldwide…Dana Brook!” I backed away, watched Dana somersault into the ring. She was athletic, strong. A good opponent. “Ladies and gentlemen, this match is a first round qualifier in the Raw Women’s Championship Number One Contender Tournament.”

Everyone except the referee cleared out of the ring. He drew the two of us to the center of the ring. I glanced at Dana, met her gaze. We knew how this was going to go, but we’d been given almost half an hour for the match. Whether it was because they wanted to amp up the drama for the tournament or they were pushing me as a resilient fighter, it didn’t matter. Dana and I were ready to give the people a show. No quick pin for us. Dana was good, had a lot to teach me.

The bell rang. I was ready to learn.

We locked up, traded waist holds, wrist locks. My back slammed hard into the turnbuckle when she shot me forward with an Irish Whip. Ten minutes in I caught her with a superkick, but she kicked out at two. At twelve minutes, she held me upside down for a full fifteen seconds before she suplexed me backwards. Chops and holds. Eighteen minutes—she got me in a rollup, but I kicked out at two and a half.

Twenty-six minutes in it was time. She tried to throw me into another Irish Whip. I pivoted, reversed her hold, pulled her in and caught her on the nose with a Ripcord Knee. Seth climbed the steel steps, stomped, pounded the turnbuckle in his enthusiasm. I stood over Dana, pointed to Seth and grinned.

Dana struggled to her feet, swayed. I kicked her in the midsection, doubled her over. Grabbed her by the head, put her in position between my knees. I hooked her arms up, linked my fingers. Dropped hard onto my knees, watched her flop onto her back.

Somewhere on commentary, Renee chimed in over Corey Graves’ voice. “Llane just dropped a Pedigree. She’s successfully hit _every_ finisher that The Shield has used. And they seem more than pleased with that.”

I pinned her, putting my weight on her chest. One… two… three.

The bell. The sound of JoJo the announcer over the loudspeakers. “Your winner, Llane Black! She will advance to round two.”

Dana rolled to her feet, crossed the ring. She drew me into a hug, whispered in my ear. “You did good, kid. Thanks for helping me show what I can do.”

I hugged her hard. When we broke apart, I held out my fist. She smiled, looked around at the men climbing between the ropes. Her gaze met mine. Shrugged. Her fist pounded into mine, stayed there a moment, then disappeared. She slipped out of the ring, let Apollo help her up the ramp, Titus following behind.

Dean and Roman climbed the turnbuckles, posing for the cameras and shouting to the crowd. Seth came up behind me, threw an arm around my shoulders. His elbow rested on my left shoulder, palm splayed out on my right bicep. The weight of his muscled arm was heavy on my chest.

He pointed down at me, shouted loud enough for the cameras and mics to pick up. “This is your new champ. Right here, baby. Right here!”

He planted a kiss on the side of my head, quick and firm. The crowd popped, cameras flashing. I grinned, overcome.

“You see that sign?” he whispered in my ear, pointing to a place just to our right up on the second level.

I followed his finger, laughed when I saw the posterboard. The owner had drawn out a shield, written out our names inside. At the bottom, in big block letters, it read _Rollins and Black… Kiss Already!_

“We’ll probably get in trouble,” I whispered back.

He pulled me toward the ropes, clearing out the ring for the next match. Roman and Dean stopped along the ramp to sign stuff, take a few pictures. Seth still had his arm around me.

“That’s why we just snap a picture on Instagram. If you’re ready for that.”


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

_(GIF owned by drakemaverick on Tumblr)_

            “Are you sure about this?” Seth asked quietly.

            We strolled along the river walk in downtown San Antonio. The show started in a few hours and we’d have to head over to the arena, but it was nice to just have a little bit of time to ourselves. Especially since we were trying to work up the courage to share our secret with the world.

            “I guess.” My voice changed pitch, rose a bit at the end. Let slip the nervousness that burned in my gut. “I mean… Steph said it wasn’t a big deal, right?”

            He nodded, slipped his fingers into place with mine. He gave my palm a gentle squeeze. “If you’re not ready for this, to go completely public… I understand, Llane. As long as you’re happy, so am I.”

            My heart thumped. I drew in a deep breath. “How much longer can we keep it a secret though? We travel together. We work together. I’m with you guys all the time. And Steph was right. I’ve watched our playback, Seth. There’s no hiding how we feel about each other. You can see it in our faces.”

            A grumble. He stopped, tugged me close to him. The warmth of his body ebbed into me, sank into my chest and worked its way into my soul. His palm slipped into place on the small of my back, held me anchored to the earth.

            “I can’t help it that you are the most wonderful woman in the world,” he murmured.

            I giggled, sighed against his chest. “That’s not fair. You can’t be sweet like that.”

            Seth dropped a kiss on my hair and smiled. “I can do whatever I want.” He hugged me for a long moment, the two of us standing next to the river as a sea of people flowed around us. My breathing synched with his, chests expanding and relaxing in time. “Seriously. If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

            I wriggled away, looked up into his dark eyes. He watched me warily. Whatever I said… it meant something to him. It meant something to Seth, to those fragments of Colby that I’d gotten to know. There was a set to his jaw that struck me by surprise. It was pride—in me, in our relationship.

            My heart ached for that look on his face. I reached up, brushed my thumb along his cheek. “Where are we doin’ this thing?” I asked confidently.

            He broke into a wide grin. His head whipped around, searching for a position. At last, he pointed to a table on the walk next to the river.

            “Pull your chair around here,” he said, sitting down so that his back was to the water.

            I stopped, let my gaze drink him in. His BlackCraft Cult shirt hugged his torso, showed off his sculpted arms. He wore a pair of relaxed fit jeans, worn Chucks on his feet. Hair in a knot, backwards Cardinals cap. The lowering sun glittered on the water behind him, surrounding him in a surreal golden halo.

            “What?” Seth asked, lips hitched up in a sideways grin.

            Digging through my pocket, snatching my cell phone. Snapped a quick picture, hid it in my private folder.

            “You’re amazing,” I replied, dragging my chair around to sit beside him. I turned, pulled my leg up, foot resting on the edge of the seat. “And you’re totally hot.”

            Color burst across his cheeks. He looked away, chuckled. He fiddled with his phone, opened the Instagram app. Took a deep breath. “You ready?”

            I shrugged, nodded. Now or later, it was going to get out. And this way, we controlled how it happened.

            There was a lot of laughter as we tried to get the perfect shot. Some shots were centered but blurry. Others were clear, but all you saw was one of us or the tops of our heads. It took at least ten or twelve tries before we finally got the shot that mattered.

            The sun glittered on the river behind us. Somewhere in the attempts, I’d snatched Seth’s hat and put it on. He was tilting the hat back so he could reach my lips. My right hand settled on his shoulder. The kiss was chaste, tender. It was a photo I wanted to keep for the rest of my life.

            “What should we say?” I asked, leaning my cheek against his shoulder. He stared at the picture, fingers hovering over the touch screen of his smartphone.

            He grinned, rested his head against mine. Fingers moving. The soft _tick-tap_ of the letters as he typed. The screen turned toward me, caption already posted beneath the picture.

            **wwerollins:** _Enjoying some quiet time on the river walk before the show with the best girl. @llaneblackwwe #sanantonioriverwalk_

            I grinned. Heard the little ping from my phone as the notification came through. Took a deep breath, pressed my fingers against his wrist.

            “It’s about to get real, isn’t it?”

 

            It was a live event. Nothing too fancy, and nothing that really forced us to keep strictly to character. It was Dean and I on the ticket to fight Alicia Fox and Jinder Mahal. Practice matches before the Mixed Match Challenge began.

            I bounced in gorilla, warming up my muscles. Dean stood nearby, psyching himself up for a fight. He cracked his neck, growled, pushed his way through the curtain as his music swelled in the arena. The sound of the crowd was nearly loud enough to drown it out. I pinwheeled my arms, waiting.

            My music hit, I ran out, stopped next to Dean, mimicking his posture. He looked over at me, smirked. Leaned over, cradled the left side of my head with his large hand, kissed the right side just above my temple.

            “Get ready for the storm, dollface.”

            We stalked to the ring, climbed the stairs, bounced up on the bottom rope, posing and riling up the crowd. My eyes swept the arena, catching glimpses of signs that bore the Shield insignia, our individual names. One was written in jagged letters, _Lunatic Llane_ sketched out in thick black font.

            Dean backed me into our corner as Alicia and Jinder entered. He pressed his forehead against mine, hands on either side of my head. Something we did all the time in the ring. Hyped me up with a gruff pep-talk.

            The match started, Jinder and Dean fighting back and forth. I watched from the corner, hyperaware of Alicia on the other side, Sunil Singh on the outside. Wondered why Seth and Roman hadn’t come to the ring with us. But it was classic storytelling—the good guys were always outnumbered.

            Alicia tagged in. I exploded out of the corner, taking her down in a series of running clotheslines. We moved fast pace, back and forth, Irish Whip, leg hook takedown, hip toss, suplex. At one point, she whipped me hard against the ropes near her corner. She ran at me, kicked me beneath the chin and flipped me over the top. I went flying out of the ring, caught by Sunil before I hit the floor.

            Dean was there in a second, his face screwed up with rage. Sunil looked from me to Deana and back again.

            “I didn’t… She just fell… Look…” He sat me down on my feet, hands up, backed away.

            Dean took two steps toward him, nose to nose. “Don’t you ever put a finger on her again, you hear me?” he roared. The first row heard, the words started passing their way up through the arena. He cocked back his fist, punched Sunil in the jaw. The other man went down.

            I really thought he was knocked out.

            Pain shot through my skull. Alicia dragged me back up into the ring by my hair. Dean and Jinder were trading blows outside the ring. I tried not to watch, worry that something was going to go wrong.

            A pin. Her feet on the ropes. Kick out at two and a half.

            I struggled to my feet, squared up with her. She came at me. I met her with a boot in the midsection. Doubled over, I hooked her arms, dropped her into the mat with Dirty Deeds. Rolled into the pin panting.

            The three count seemed to take forever. The bell rang. My name disappeared into the garbled aether of the shouting crowd. I rolled to the edge of the ring, sat up, gasping for breath. There was going to be a bruise beneath my chin in the morning. It already ached.

            Dean came over, leaned beside me on the apron. He was panting too, slicked with sweat.

            “You good?” I asked softly.

            He nodded, glanced over at me. A shadow dropped over his eyes. “Shit,” he swore beneath his breath.

            Dean’s fingers gently gripped my chin, tilted my head back to see where Alicia’s boot had clipped me. He touched the spot tenderly, jerking away when I hissed in pain. He looked like he wanted to punch someone.

            “Some ice and I’ll be fine,” I replied, sliding off the apron onto my feet.

            Dean gripped my wrist, tugged me in. He wrapped his arm around my head, kissed my hair. “Gotta keep you safe, dollface,” he said gruffly. 

            I gave a little chuckle and slipped an arm around his waist. “Yeah, I know, I belong to the Shield now.”

            “Damn straight.”

            We stumbled up the ramp, slipped backstage. Dean went in search of a trainer’s room, a bag of ice for my jaw. I made my way into my locker room, stretched out on one of the wooden benches. The adrenaline spilled out of me in a great rush. All I felt was exhaustion, sore muscles, the burning pain of a blooming bruise.

            My phone pinged, Instagram notifications. _3,246 comments_. I sighed. _Hell._


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

_(GIF owned by deanseths on Tumblr)_

            My heart dropped into my toes. I scrolled through the blog article on my phone, not quite believing what I was reading.

            “This blew up way more than I expected,” I said, voice pitched annoyingly high. Dean sat across the table, digging in to a plate of food from catering. We were relatively alone, waiting for the end of Smackdown to compete in our first round of the Mixed Match Challenge. This was the first time that I’d traveled without Seth and Roman. It was odd to be without them, like I was missing a limb or two.

            Dean shrugged. “Why do you think I want to keep the most part of my life away from everyone else?”

            I let my head drop to the table. “At least most of the comments have been sort of positive. There’s a few who aren’t too fond of me, but I try to ignore them.”

            “Ignore it all, dollface. Nobody matters but you and him.” He grinned lopsidedly.

            “And the two of you,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “You and Ro are just as important to me as Seth is.”

            A chuckle. “Don’t say that on camera, or else the blogs will start talking about how you’re dating all of us.”

            I laughed in return, shook my head at the thought of it. “Not even I’m that crazy.”

 

            “You had a great debut on the Mixed Match Challenge,” Charlie said from my right, the mic held between Dean and me. “It was a massive victory over Mickie James and Bobby Lashley. Next week, you face Braun Strowman and Ember Moon. How will you prepare to take them on?”

            “I’m ready for Ember Moon. I don’t care if she is the War Goddess.”

            “And I don’t care if Strowman thinks I’m afraid of ‘getting those hands.’”

            Dean threw an arm around my shoulders, tugged me in to his side. I looked up at him, grinned. “Because when you take a walk down Lunatic Llane, no one can hear you scream.”

            He chuckled darkly, pulled me in tighter against him and steered me down the hallway toward the locker room. Once we were out of sight of the cameras, he let me go, tugged playfully on my ponytail.

            “See you in the garage in twenty,” he grunted, turning off to his own room.

            I went a little further down the hall to my own dressing room. The adrenaline still pumped through my veins. My fingers trembled a little as I unwrapped my Black and Brave wrist straps and tucked them in the front pocket of my bag. I sat down on the wooden bench and tugged my phone out.

            My thumb scrolled through the numbers, finding Seth’s. I took a moment and just looked at his photo. It was a sneaky shot I’d taken one night in the SUV as we drove from one city to the next. He had his earbuds in, listening to something on his phone. I caught the picture in just the right place, the streetlights filtering through the window to cast his profile into relief.

            I tapped his number, hit the icon for video chat. It rang, the low-toned series of notes that I’d come to associate with life on the road. Before, it had been the sound of connection to my brothers. Now, it was my connection to Seth when we were apart.

            Muffled noise, the camera coming into focus. Seth’s face appeared, his eyes bleary. I could tell he was in bed. Bright light spilled from his left, the lamp on a hotel room nightstand. His hair was a mess, beard a little scruffy.

            He looked perfect.

            “Hey,” he said thickly. He was still lying down, holding the phone with one hand and propping up his head with the other. “How’d it go?”

            “I didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, silently cursing at myself for not thinking ahead of the time. True it was only just 11, but he’d been driving most of the night before and spent the day doing interviews at a fan convention. “I should’ve known you’d go to bed early.”

            Seth made a face, one of the goofy ones that he did to make me laugh. “Nah, no big deal, babe. I don’t have a beautiful woman in my bed to keep me awake, so I can get some sleep later.”

            “You better not,” I grumbled playfully. We’d talked a lot about his past, about the choices that he’d made. I trusted him until he gave me a reason to doubt him. “Seriously, I just wanted to hear your voice before we hit the road.”

            He blinked slowly, a sure sign that he was trying to fight off sleep. “I’m sorry I slept through your match. I came back, took a shower, and passed the fuck out.”

            I grinned. “It’s okay. Dean got the pin, but Mickie made sure to give me a good slap on the jaw. The whole left side of my face is going to be swollen tomorrow. You have no clue how much makeup they had to put on to hide the bruise.”

            Seth rested his head back on his pillow, yawned. I held back my sigh. “Go back to bed. I’ve got to get a shower before Dean leaves me.”

            “See you tomorrow?” he asked. We had a show the next night about two hours away. Seth and Roman were supposed to meet us there.

            “Yeah,” I said wistfully. “I can’t wait.”

            “Me, either. I miss you, Llane.”

            My heart thumped desperately. Heat radiated through my muscles, surrounded me in a blanket that reminded me of him. I knew I’d be traveling in his zippered hoodie that night. I took a few more seconds, drank in the way he looked. Soft almost. Boyish. Innocent.

            “I love you, Seth,” I whispered. Smiled tenderly. “And I love you, too, Colby.”

            Seth blushed, looked as if he wanted to hide his face in the pillow. He gazed back at me. “I love you, Llane Black. More than anything.”

            A deep breath. The strength to say goodbye. Drew it out of my sinews and my soul and forced it into my voice.

            “Goodnight, Seth.”

            He murmured something that sounded like _goodnight_ before he dozed off again, the image on the phone going grey and blurry as it fell forward onto the bed. I sighed, disconnected, tucked my phone back into my overnight bag. Grabbed toiletries to take a quick shower.

 

            Dean was waiting in the garage with the car when I came out dressed in leggings and t-shirt, Seth’s zippered hoodie over it all. I threw my bag in the back and climbed into the passenger seat. We’d gotten lucky with this temporary rental—the seats were heated. It was nothing like our SUV that was worn and more than a little filthy inside. I swore there was a faint smell of Mexican food in it somewhere. But it was ours, our home away from home. And I wouldn’t trade it for the best car in the world.

            “You sure you don’t want to drive with Renee?” I asked, knowing how much Dean cherished the alone time with his wife. “I can catch a ride with Becky and Charlotte. They’re going that way.”

            He waved his hand to shut me up. “She’s got to fly up to HQ to film some stuff. Won’t be back until Thursday.”

            I took a moment to take in the life he lived. Always on the road, sometimes together, more often apart. Capturing just a few days here and there together. Stolen moments that were used to build a life.

            “Does it ever get easier?”

            Dean reached over, took my hand. Gave it a firm squeeze. “It’s easier when you’re on the same show. Then you travel together. Or… at least you can stay in the same room most nights.”

            A nod. A knot in my throat. Sudden terror that it might happen to Seth and me if we were split up.

            “Don’t get all sad, dollface. You’re one of us now. They’re not splitting us up again.” His voice was deep, gruff, certain. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_(GIF owned by ambreignsmemories on Tumblr)_

            I stretched out in the backseat of the SUV, feet hanging out the window as I waited for the guys to come out of their locker room. I’d finished getting changed early, decided to throw my bags in the car and lounge around until they made their way out.

            My head was pillowed on one of Seth’s sweaters, headphones on, the thump of Breaking Benjamin filtering into my ears. I scrolled through a few of my favorite blogs, caught up on news that I’d missed over the last few days. One of the blogs was a fan site, where members of the WWE Universe would talk about the storylines, the matches, and the superstars.

            Curious, I tapped on the one that was dedicated to the Hounds of Justice. The thread was long, almost fifty new messages since the last time I’d checked. One of them halfway down the page caught my attention.

            _“I feel bad for Renee and Seth. You can tell the Llane and Dean have a thing for each other. They’ve got too much chemistry in the ring together.”_

            Part of me wanted to cringe, but the part that wanted to laugh took control. I snickered, screenshotting the page and sending it off to Dean, Seth, Roman, and Renee. Sometimes the fans came up with the weirdest and most interesting theories.

            My phone pinged, a response from Renee. An emoji, the one rolling his eyes.

            I turned the phone off, focused on the music as I drifted in and out of sleep. Deep voices drew my attention, pulling me fully into consciousness. Eyes opened, saw the cargo area open, caught sight of Dean as he tossed in his bag.

            “Took y’all long enough,” I slurred, forcing myself to sit up. Chin rested against the back of the seat, watching them with a lopsided grin.

            Dean rolled his eyes, made a face. “You act like you didn’t have enough reading material.”

            I groaned, returned his grotesque face. “It was one comment, Dean. Shit.”

            “Not tonight,” Roman said authoritatively. He looked more than a little perturbed. I fought back the urge to cower into the seat.

            A brief nod, turning around, sitting up straight, not taking up more than my allotted space. I tucked myself into a ball, did everything I could to ensure that I was out of the way, no trouble, no distraction.

            Seth climbed into the driver’s seat. Roman rode shotgun, although he didn’t look very happy about it. Instinctively, I made sure to look away. To not be an annoyance. Dean slipped into the seat beside me, shut the door, gave Seth a tap on the shoulder to let him know it was time to go.

            The car was quiet as we left the arena, got onto the highway to the next city. No music. No talking. Just the electronic sound of the GPS giving directions. An uncomfortable heaviness settled around me. Electric shocks ran through me. Adrenaline dripped-dripped into my blood, made me feel nervous… anxious… suddenly terrified… felt some horrible, bone deep sense of _wrongness_.

            Half an hour. The silence stretched on, turned my stomach. I wanted—needed—to vomit. I pulled myself in tighter, leaned against the window and tried not to cry.

            We stopped for gas. Seth went to pay while Roman opened the tank. Once the doors were closed behind them, I jumped. Dean reached out, his hand bumping against my elbow.

            “Llane? Are you okay?”

            My heart pounded in my throat. I thought I was going to choke. Tried to nod my head. Shook it instead.

            “What is it?” Dean’s voice deepened, overlaid with worry and pitched with fear. “What’s wrong?”

            I glanced toward where Roman stood at the back of the car. Felt my pulse thrum, made me dizzy. My voice came out small, broken. “Ro… he’s…” I couldn’t finish. Tears clouded my vision. Terror choked me.

            He nodded as if he understood the words I hadn’t been able to say. He squeezed my hand gently, slipped from the car, shut the door gently behind him. I watched, trembling head to toe, as he walked around the front of the car. He glanced at me a few times, made sure that he stayed within my line of sight. I felt a rush of gratitude for him.

            Dean leaned against my door as he got Roman’s attention. His voice was too low for me to hear what they were saying, but Roman’s body language was enough to make me want to curl in on myself again. A flash of memory. Angry words. A flying fist and a flash of pain across my skull. I shuddered, the bile crawling up my throat.

            Seth reappeared from the inside of the gas station. I watched as he rounded the front of the car, caught sight of Dean and Roman talking. He stepped up, arms crossed, brow furrowed in concern.

            The faint strains of their conversation finally filtered through the steel and glass and cloud of ancient memory that threatened to drown me.

            “You need to calm down,” Dean said, voice gravelly and determined.

            Roman raised his hand, waved the words away. Mumbled something in response.

            “No,” Dean insisted, suddenly puffing himself up, stepping toe-to-toe with Roman. Seth watched, unsure of what he was seeing. “You don’t seem to hear me. You _need_ to calm _the fuck_ down.”

            Seth got closer, a wall between his brothers. Roman spouted off something about not needing to follow Dean’s orders. The gruffness, the frustration in Roman’s voice sent a chill down my spine. I sank lower in the seat, covering my face to hide the tears of terror. I thought Seth met my eyes before I tried to shrink into nothingness.

            “You’re terrifying the shit out of Llane,” Dean ground through his teeth. “I know what that look in her eyes is. So chill the _fuck_ out or find another way to the hotel.”

            Silence, broken here and there by muffled words. The door opened, Dean slipped inside. He took a deep breath, held out his arms. “C’mere, dollface.”

            I let Dean hold me, took solace in the fact that he understood without me having to speak. The terror ebbed and flowed, seeping out of me in slow eddies. It left me drained, exhausted.

            “I know,” he whispered softly. “It comes out of nowhere sometimes. And it feels like you’re going fucking crazy.”

            Nodding, I burrowed into Dean’s embrace. Felt a momentary flash of guilt that it was something Seth didn’t know—something I didn’t think he could understand. At least, not like Dean could.

He kissed me on top of the head, squeezed me confidently.

The car rocked, Seth climbed into the driver’s seat. He looked back at us, worry in his dark eyes. Guilt raged in my guts. His hand reached back, curved over my knee tenderly. Stayed there in an affectionate promise of solidarity. Of promise that he would be there, that he would listen, try to understand.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

Dean scoffed, squeezed me a little harder. Seth glared at the empty passenger seat. “It isn’t your fault, Llane. Ro… you know what… I’m not even going to defend it. He’s in a pissy mood and he needs to deal with it.”

The passenger door opened, Roman appearing. He looked sheepish. He climbed in to the car, turned in the seat to face me and Dean. “Llane… I’m sorry that I’ve upset you. I don’t understand what I did, but I want to figure it out so I don’t do it again.”

Dean nodded, motioned for him to turn back around. Seth gave my knee a gentle squeeze, smiled at me softly. I let Dean tuck me against his side, wrap me up in Seth’s discarded hoodie.

“Get some rest, dollface. I got you.”


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

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            At the hotel, Roman slipped inside, head hung low. I felt an ache in the pit of my stomach, knew I’d have to figure out how to talk to him about what happened. My throat swelled up, closed, made me want to vomit.

            Seth went around back, grabbed the bags. Dean got out of the car, pulled me out behind him with gentle hands. My knees felt weak… a sense of vertigo, of the ground beneath me turning to water. He sat a heavy arm around my shoulders, walked slowly at my side. Together, the three of us made our way inside and checked in.

            I nearly collapsed on the bed when we got to my room. Dean piled up pillows behind me, helped me get comfortable. He found a blanket in the closet, tucked it around me as shock roared through me, sent me to shivering uncontrollably. Seth busied himself by putting the bags out of the way, unpacked sleep clothes and toiletries. I knew he was listening, watching.

            Worrying.

            Dean sat in the floor at the bedside, back against the nightstand. He studied me with hooded blue eyes. Something hid deep within his gaze, some shadow of a monster that he had long since pushed away.

            “You need a drink,” he said determinedly.

            I shook my head, tucked the blanket around me more tightly. “I just need sleep.”

            He gave me a look, one that made it clear that he didn’t believe me. “You want to talk about it?” The words were faint, almost lost in the aether.

            Hesitation. The bubble of shame, distrust, growing in my chest. A terror that the cracks at the center of my being would show. That the three of them—the ones who meant the most to me in this business—would look at me differently.

            “It’s okay,” he added, reaching up to pat the formless lump that was me. “You don’t have to.”

            The silence stretched out for a long while. In an odd way, it was comforting. A release of expectations. Permission to just be.

            “Stop skulking,” Dean said suddenly. “I can feel you hovering back there.”

            I looked up, saw Seth appear slowly from the shadows in the space by the door. He’d already gotten dressed for bed—worn cotton pants, a threadbare Metallica t-shirt, contacts gone, glasses on, hair tied back out of the way. He approached slowly, as if he was coming near a wounded animal.

            “Can I do anything?” he asked.

            Before I could answer, Dean gestured him toward the bed. I glanced at my tag partner gratefully, simultaneously relieved and intrigued at how he knew exactly what I needed without me saying a thing. He winked at me, gave a small smile that promised the whole story later.

            Movement. The dipping of the mattress. A rush of acknowledgement, the scent of Seth burning into my brain.

            Seth sat beside me, legs crossed, hands held loosely in his lap. His posture was wary. Unsure.

            I leaned my head onto his shoulder, took in the scent and heat and nearness of him. His cheek pressed against my hair.

            “What happened, Llane?” His voice was low, hesitant. “Can you… do you want to talk about it?”

            Dean unfolded from the floor, came over to sit at my feet on the end of the bed. His hand rested protectively on my ankle, somehow that frenetic energy of his becoming some kind of soothing center. In that moment, however brief it was, Dean was the eye of the storm that was raging around me.

            A spike of guilt tore into my chest. My center shouldn’t be Dean. It should be Seth.

            Squeeze. A tender smile. Dean, a silent acknowledgement of what was going through my brain. Sorrow buried in blue eyes.

            I took a long breath, trying to find the right words. “Ro… he kind of…” Stumbling. Tongue tied. “He reminded me of one of my foster parents.”

            Seth reached out, added the weight of his hand to the anchoring presence of Dean. No pushing. No expectations. Just patience.

            “I never really knew my parents. I got bounced around from foster home to foster home until I was sixteen.” My pulse raced. Stomach tied itself into knots. “A few of them were nice, most of them weren’t. The last family… they were great. Took care of me until I turned eighteen. Treated me like their own kid, helped me through college, supported me when I started training, performing on the indies. They already had two sons. Bran and Georgie are better than blood brothers for me.”

            They listened intently, not rushing or interrupting. Dean’s grip tightened a fraction. Sadness radiated off Seth in waves.

            “I got lucky with the last family. Most of the others… they were nice on the surface. Beneath, I was just a paycheck for them. I was with one family for almost three years, starting when I was eleven. The state took me away from them when I was fourteen. My foster dad had a temper.” I stopped, tried to catch my breath, fight back the nausea that clawed its way up my throat. I gagged, felt tears start to stream down my face. “He beat me when I got in his way, when I annoyed him. He always got real stern and quiet when he was angry. The quieter he got, the worse it would be. The state finally stepped in when he hit me so hard in the head that I basically had an aneurism and was in a coma for three days.”

            Seth’s arm slipped around me, drew me closer to him. His fingers stroked the side of my neck, a reminder that he was there.

            “I know Ro would never…”

            Dean stopped me, shook his head. “It’s a protective instinct, dollface. Doesn’t matter that Ro would never lay a finger on you angry or frustrated or even mildly annoyed. Shit happened to you and this is how your body decided to protect you.”

            It felt as if every sinew of my body relaxed. Like there were finally words to what I had carried for half my life. It was breathing free air after a long imprisonment.

            I cried in a way that I never had before. It was a release. A purging of some poison that had been sheltering in my body as long as I could remember.

            “Sure you don’t want that drink?” Dean asked, the tone assuring that he was joking.

            A small smile broke over me. I sank into Seth’s embrace, feeling lighter than before. His arms were still around me tightly, as if nothing was different. Dean grinned from his place near my feet. His mouth moved, formed silent words.

            _Nothing’s changed_.

           

I woke up some time after two in the morning. Seth was curled against my back, his arm over my torso protectively. I wriggled out of his hold, needing a trip to the bathroom and something to drink. His fingers flexed in the sheets, searching for me. His lashes fluttered, oscillating between sleep and wakefulness.  

            Crossing the room, I noticed a faint noise coming from the loveseat beneath the window. The noise solidified into a hunched lump that became Dean Ambrose. He was sprawled out on a loveseat that would barely have fit me. One foot was on the floor, the other hung over the end. He tucked one hand behind his head, the other lounging against the back of the little couch. He looked so horribly uncomfortable.

            I jumped when Seth’s warm fingers slid around my wrist. He sat up in the bed, bleary eyed. “He didn’t want to leave. In case you needed something.”

            Leaning against Seth’s bulk. Slipping my arms around his shoulders. “Promise me we’ll get through this, Seth. That I won’t always be afraid.”

            He hugged me tightly, hands splayed on my back. “I promise,” he whispered. “Even if we have to pay Renee so you get an Emotional Support Dean. We’ll even make him wear the vest.”


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

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            “Hey, Ro?” I leaned against the open door of his locker room. My anxiety rose high, made me pick at the edges of my shirt. Seth and Dean were in the hallway, waiting in case I needed them.

            Roman looked up, face a mixture of relief and worry. He was in street clothes—jeans, pullover, boots, hair tied into a knot. He stood, made a move to approach me, stopped. I felt his gaze travel over me, assessing everything all at once.

            “I’m okay,” I said softly. “Really.”

            I moved into the room, sat on a chair nearby him. He sank down quickly, as if he feared what might happen if he hovered. I hated how worried he looked.

            “I want you to know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

            He ran a hand over his hair. “What did I do though?”

            Deep breath. Face the fear. Give it words. Put all the ugly and the terror and the bruises and brokenness on the table.

            I took my time, telling him the story in much the same way that I had the night before. Abandoned. The series of foster homes. The man who nearly killed me. The state that didn’t do nearly enough to protect an innocent girl. How lucky I was with the last family. How they were still the only real family I’d ever known.

            At least… until I’d become a part of The Shield.

            Roman reached out, took both my hands in his. The grip of his fingers was strong, their touch tender. Silence hung between us, Roman seeming to fight with some inner thought. Muscles in his jaw bunched, tightened, relaxed again.

            “I’m so sorry, Llane.” He squeezed my hands, slipped from his chair to kneel in front of me. “I’m so sorry that any of that happened to you. I’m angry that it happened to you. And I’m ashamed that I brought all that back, even though I didn’t know.”

            His words filtered through my mind, pushed past the walls that went up, that I was ready to use if he decided he didn’t think of me the same. When they finally made sense, when I understood at last that Dean was right, and nothing had changed, I felt the tears burn down my cheeks. I threw my arms around Roman, let him tuck me into a hug that was warm and safe.

            He whispered softly against my ears, the words settling into a tattoo on my heart. “ _Matou te puipuia oe_.” A brief, reassuring kiss on the top of my head. “We will protect you.”

            Weight disappeared. My last great secret was gone. At last they knew the real me.

 

            I watched from the commentary table, headset feeling unwieldy on my head. Roman paced the outside of the ring, doing his best to keep Braun Strowman from interfering in the match. Seth and Dean were in their tag match, a title shot against Drew and Dolph at the monthly pay-per-view. It was late in the show, not the main event, but close enough. So far it had been a lopsided match, Drew and Dolph taking control early and not giving up much.

            “This is something we’ve come to expect from McIntyre and Ziggler,” Michael Cole said, voice piped in through the headset. He was two seats away from me, but it was impossible to hear him amid the screaming crowd. “Ruthlessness early and often.”

            “They cut the ring in half effectively,” Corey Graves added. I _hated_ it when he said that. “McIntyre has kept Rollins away from his partner for most of the match. I mean, how much more can the Kingslayer take before he just gives in.”

            “If you think Seth Rollins is going to give up,” I threw in, giving Graves an icy glare, “then you don’t know anything about Seth Rollins.”

            Corey looked at me as if he hadn’t expected me to speak at all. “A man can only take so much.”

            “Well, a man like _you_ ,” I retorted smugly.

            “She’s got you there, Graves,” Renee said, chuckling. She started to say something else, but our attention was drawn to the ring. Seth had broken away from Drew, taken a running dive across the squared circle, hit Dean for the hot tag.

“Here comes the Lunatic Fringe!” Michael Cole exclaimed.

Dean exploded into the ring, took down Drew in a running clothesline, hit Dolph on the apron with a hard punch to the jaw. Dolph fell to ringside, effectively knocked out. I watched as Dean turned his attention back to Drew, who was slowly getting to his feet. Every move that my tag partner made was fluid, purposeful. It was his moment. His chance to shut down everything that Braun, Drew, and Dolph had said about him.

Braun climbed up on the apron, yelled at Dean to distract him. Roman came flying around the corner post, grabbed the Monster by the foot and pulled him down to the floor. The two of them squared up, oblivious to Dolph who was still sprawled out on the floor in front of the commentary table.

Dean threw Drew into the corner, barreled at him in a splash that sent the big man stumbling forward. My heart skipped a beat. I knew what was coming, but it was still a sight to see.

Coming up behind the Scotsman, Dean hooked his arms back. He levered Drew up, leaning back so that the only way for him to avoid falling was to tuck his feet on the side of Dean’s knees. In a smooth sweep, Dean swung forward, fell into a sit out, landed Drew hard on his face in a hook and ladder. A quick roll of Drew onto his back, fall into the pin, hook both legs.

One…

Two…

Three…

The bell rang. The crowd popped so loudly that I thought my ears would bleed. I threw off the headset and took off into the ring. The referee brought the tag belts to them, gave one to Dean and handed the other to Seth. He took them each by the arm and raised them in victory. The two of them held their newly won titles aloft, grinning fantastically.

Roman climbed the stairs, Universal Title on one shoulder, Seth’s Intercontinental Title in his hand. He grinned at his brothers, just a little upturn of the corner of his mouth.

The referee stepped out of the way. I hopped up on the apron, stood holding on to the ropes as I watched them celebrate their success. My heart swelled, burst against my ribs. I blinked, trying hard not to cry.

Seth saw me first. His grin grew wider than before. I stepped through the ropes and charged at him. He caught me around the waist with one arm, the other bearing the combined weight of two title belts. The rich deepness of his laugh roared over me.

I laughed.

“Four down, one to go,” I said.

He grinned, lifted his eyes, looked around the arena. Without hesitation, he leaned down, pressed his mouth firmly against mine.

Shock. Disbelief. Adrenaline. Euphoria. Desire.

The crowd screamed, stomped, clapped, shouted. More noise than I’d ever known. It all burrowed into my chest and warmed my soul, served to cover up the scars and bruises that had come to the surface.

“Let ‘em talk about _that_ on the blogs,” Seth murmured. I laughed, grinned up at him. Became oblivious to the cameras and everyone else. There was just us.

The four of us.

Dean smacked into me with the force of a linebacker. He lifted me off my feet, hugged me hard with both arms, the gold plate of the belt pressed painfully into my back. He grinned, a little crazed look in his blue eyes.

We gathered in the center of the ring, Seth and Dean in the middle. I stood to Seth’s right. Roman was on the other end, standing near Dean. They held up their titles, reveled in their victory and their dominance. A statement that the ring wasn’t just the Big Dog’s yard. It was our domain, and The Shield would run it, the Hounds would dispense Justice as they saw fit.

I grinned, not caring that I had nothing to hold up. The only thing that mattered was the three of them, the family I’d been lucky enough to choose.

The Shield music hit, we moved to file out of the ring. We made it halfway before Dean turned, went back and grabbed a mic. He caught me up with an arm around my neck, dragged me to the center of the ring, faced the main camera.

“The Shield runs this place,” Dean growled. “ _We_ are the Universal Champion. _We_ are the Intercontinental Champion. _We_ are the Tag Team Champions. And soon… _She’ll_ be the Raw Women’s Champion.”

He gave me a gentle shake, pointed at me, drew the attention of every eye in the crowd to me. I cracked my neck, stared down the camera with a confidence that only came when I was with the Hounds.

“So be on notice. If you want a title… you have to go through _The Shield_.”

I snatched the mic from him, stalked up to the ropes, climbed up to lean over the top. “Get ready, Rousey. Because when I win the Number One Contender Tournament, _you’re_ going to be the one to tap out.”


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

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            “Don’t go easy on her,” Ty said to Miz. It was the semi-finals of the UpUpDownDown _Madden_ tournament. The winner of this game would go on to face the winner of the Raw semi-finals.

            Surprise… surprise… Seth Rollins vs. Bo Dallas.

            “He needs to pay attention to his own team,” I spat back playfully. For some reason, Miz was playing Dallas. I’d chosen to go with the Panthers. “Just because he’s a Texan now doesn’t mean he can play a team like Tom Landry.”

            Ty’s eyes went wide, shocked that I knew that much about football. I made a face at him before switching my attention back to the game. I had to admit, Miz wasn’t making it easy for me. It had been a back and forth score for the past ten minutes. At game halftime, it was a tie score.

            “Let’s make this a little more interesting,” Miz said, grinning sideways at me. I couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or falling into his smarmy on-screen persona.

            “How so?” I asked cautiously.

            “I win, you have to go on every social media you have and tell the world how awesome I am.” He leaned toward Ty and mumbled something that sounded like _as if they don’t already know_.

            A quirked brow, questioning frown. “And if I win?”

            “You win, and you get to me in my next movie.”

            I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Wow… a cameo in _Marine 7_. Not good enough for me.”

            “What? Like you can do better on your own? Rollins was in _Sharknado_ for crying out loud.”

            Shrug. A silent reminder to pull up that video later, torture Seth with it. “No, if I win…” I thought for a long moment, going through everything that might be embarrassing for him. A smirk. “If I win, you not only go on social media and saw how awesome _I_ am, you have to say the _entire_ Shield is awesome _while_ wearing a Shield shirt.”

            Silence. Miz turning green around the gills as he contemplated. Mouth compressed into a thin line. Nostrils flared.

            “Done.”

            Neither of us spoke through the third quarter of the game. Miz tried to pull ahead in a big lead, but I was able to stop at least one touchdown. At the start of the fourth, he was ahead by a touchdown and a field goal. He had possession.

            “Garbage!” I shouted as I missed stopping his player for the first down.

            Deep, steady breath. Moving to the edge of my seat. Controller held firmly in sweaty hands. Determination settling in my bones, bristling through sinew and muscle.

            The seconds ticked by. Woods and the other members of New Day hovered nearby, watching the game with anticipation. It was true that they hadn’t let me skate through the tournament. Still, Miz was my biggest challenge. He was probably the best player on the Smackdown roster.

            A minute to go. Down by a touchdown. Panthers in possession, ball on the Dallas twenty-five. Second down. The clock was running out, and so were my chances of making it to the finals.

            I cycled through the available plays. Tried to decide if I’d run or pass. Watched as Miz set up his defensive line on the field. Quick call, changed a play.

            Snap. Fall back into the pocket. Far out, a wide receiver open. I launched the ball, made sure my player was in position. Caught it at the ten. Ran the rest. Danced in the end zone.

            Fifteen seconds left on the clock. Field goal or the two-point conversion. Miz arrayed his team, ready for either.

            Woods, Big E, and Kofi gathered around, watching the last crucial play of the game.

            Field goal fake. The ball was launched onto the right end. Caught in a tumble as the player rolled into the end zone for the two-point.

            I let out a long breath, grinned. Took a moment to enjoy my victory, certain that I had earned this one.

            “Well, hell,” Miz said staring wide eyed at the screen. At his side, Ty looked like he was trying not to laugh.

            I stood up, sat my controller on the table beneath the television. “Good game, Miz.” I stuck out my hand, a show of sportsmanship. He reached out to take it. I grinned. “Actually, not just good. It was _aaaawwwweeeeeeeee----ssssoooooommmmeeee!_ ”

            Everyone in the room doubled over trying to hide smiles and laughter. Miz stood up, grinned as well.

            “Yeah, yeah,” he said, giving me a friendly hug. When he drew away, he looked pulled his phone from his back pocket, grumbled. “Get me the shirt.”

            It took a few minutes to find some Shield merch. Miz disappeared into the hallway, made a quick change of clothes. Came back with a sick look on his face.

            “I feel so dirty,” he whined.

            “You bet, you pay, baby,” Kofi said from the corner.

            Miz made a face. His fingers flew over the touchscreen, opening up his camera to film the video. He sighed, waved me over.

            “You might as well be in the damn thing.”

            I smirked, leaned against the wall where he was filming. He held his phone out in front of him, took a breath.

            “Welcome to the most must see social media! Welcome to…. Miz Mobile.” He looked down at me, at his shirt, back at the camera. “As everyone knows, I’m a man of my word. And thanks to those jokers New Day, I wound up in the semi-finals of the UpUpDownDown _Madden_ tournament with Raw’s very own Llane Black.”

            I waved, trying my best not to look too smug. The camera made it clear that I was failing miserably.

            “If you couldn’t tell… I lost.” He gestured to his shirt. “And, as a man of my word, I’m here to tell you that Llane Black… and… every… member of… the Shield… is AWE-SOME!”

            He finished with a sick look at the camera, stopped the capture.

            I couldn’t help but laugh, punch him good-naturedly in the shoulder. “Now post it. And don’t you dare delete it. I’ll be watching, Miz.”

 

            Seth was sitting up in the bed when I came in to the hotel. He had a bleary aura around him, looking as if he were barely staying awake.

            “Hey,” I said, crossing the room. He turned, caught sight of me, smiled broadly.

            I toed my shoes off on the way, kicked them to the side. Heat bloomed in my chest, spread through my entire body. All he had to do was look at me, to give me that smile that I knew he saved just for me, and I melted inside. It was a strange thing that he could do—make me feel unbreakable and invincible yet precious all at once.

            The feel of his arms wrapped around me. Weight of his limbs settled along the curves of my body. Brush of his beard against the arc of my neck, the heat of his lips against the base of my throat. I let out a little groan, slid my fingers into his hair.

            “I thought you’d never get here,” he groaned against my skin. He shifted, pulled me tighter against him. I smiled wickedly when I pressed closer, felt his hardness grow between us.

            He nuzzled his nose against the spot where shoulder met throat. I shivered when his teeth nipped at the tender skin, tongue swept out to sooth the sting. One hand slipped beneath my shirt, rough fingers splaying along my ribs. His thumb crept up, swept coyly along the bottom of my breast.

            The whisper of his breath along my jaw. My cheek. Teasing the shell of my ear. The gruff sound of his lust-laden voice. “Why are you still dressed?”


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

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            “Alright, ladies,” I said, sitting on the apron of the ring at Black and Brave. A group of ten young women stood in a loose circle around me, some dressed in more formal wrestling gear while others wore clothes that wouldn’t be out of place at a regular gym. These were the women who had jumped at the chance of having a class with a female trainer on top of everything Marek and the others taught.

            It was my second official class. Seth and I had flown in to Davenport the Thursday night after a live event in Arizona. Now Saturday, we’d spent most of our time at the school teaching classes and training with the students at the cross-fit place down the street.

            “I know they’ve taught you the basics—how to fall, pull your shots… all that mess. And I’ve seen you at the gym. Every single one of you is strong. But I need you to stop thinking like a male wrestler.” It was the one thing that annoyed me about the way Seth and the others trained the women in their groups. They trained everyone like a man, like they were all on the border between cruiserweights and the light heavyweights. Close, but no dice.

            I’d been drilling this into their heads during every moment I had with them. Some tried to overpower their opponents, to manhandle them like they’d watched their male counterparts do. It was a surefire way to get hurt and fast.

            “Hey!” I shouted over the din of noise in the gym. “Somebody tell Colby to get his ass to the ring.”

            A few of the women chuckled. One turned bright red. It wasn’t a shock to me that many of the women in the training program had a thing for Seth Rollins. For a few, it got worse once they knew him as Colby Lopez—adorable nerd that he was. For the rest, it faded away after being around him for a few days.

            The shock came in how much it nagged at me. It was a constant battle to keep my shit together and not get jealous.

            He showed up a minute or two later, sweat streaking down his face, hair a mess of tangles and frizz.

            “You rang?” he said cheekily, hopping up onto the apron next to me.

            I smirked, rolled under the ropes into the ring. “I need you for a demonstration.”

            He made a show of looking hurt. “And here I thought you needed me because you loved me, Black.”

            Snickering. A cadre of dagger stares. Eyes rolling so hard they should have gotten stuck in the back of my skull.

            “Stow it, Lopez.” I turned toward the women who gathered around the edge of the ring. “Objectively, he is bigger than me and stronger than me. I could try to overpower him if I wanted to, but I’d most likely hurt myself before I did any real damage. There are some women in the divisions around the world that are as big and as strong as Colby here. If you want to fight them and win… you have to use their size and their strength to your advantage.”

            I turned to Seth, gestured for him to come at me. He dashed toward me, looking as if he would try a waist lock. I dropped, executed a baseball slide through his stride. He hit the ropes on the other side of the ring, bounced, and came back toward me. I ran at the turnbuckle closest to the students, climbed them with a running stride. As Seth came close, I twisted and leapt at him.

            He caught me perfectly, one of my knees on either side of his head. I grinned, dropped a kiss on the top of his sweaty head before I whipped my body backward. The momentum dragged him forward, whipping him into the center of the ring to land hard on his back. I landed not far away, feet tucked beneath me as I swung through the move.

            I stood up, looked toward the women who gathered around. “Lower center of gravity. You have one. Use it to bring bigger opponents down.”

            Seth rolled, sat up. There was something bright in his brown eyes. His fingers flexed at his side, as if he were holding himself back from something.

 

            Kevin hopped up into my lap, wriggling between my body and the book held in front of me. I scratched his ears with one hand, flipped the page with the other. He let out a little growl of contentment before settling in for what appeared to be a nap.

            It was late. I’d come back from Black and Brave just past ten. Seth had stayed behind working with a few remaining students. A quick shower and the destruction of leftover pizza from the fridge, and I had ensconced myself on the sofa to wait for him. Prince had taken up residence at my feet, Kevin snuggled up close.

            A buzzing vibration. The ping of an incoming message. I reached, picked up my phone without dislodging the dogs.

            It took a moment for the number to register. My heart thumped as I answered.

            “Hey, Georgie,” I said quietly.

            My foster brother’s voice came down the line with the deep richness of the happiest years of my youth. “Hey, Lanie. How’s life?”

            I sighed, tossing the book aside. “Busy. Exhausting sometimes.” I caught sight of headlights sweeping into the driveway, heard the rumble of the garage door rising. “But absolutely fantastic.”

            “Yeah, I’ve seen it,” Georgie teased. “You look happy on TV. Especially when those three are around.”

            Laughter. A lightness in my limbs. “They’re the second-best thing that’s ever happened to me. You know you guys are the first.”

            He chuckled. There was silence for a little while, enough time to whisper a greeting to a worn-looking Seth as he staggered through the room. Prince took off toward his dad, Kevin remaining firmly in the warmth of my lap.

            “When are you going to bring him home, Lanie?”

            It surprised me. Astonished me. Shamed me that I hadn’t thought of such a thing. As much as Georgie and his parents had been like a real family to me, I hadn’t thought about taking Seth to visit—to get their approval.

            “Are you scared we won’t like him or something?”

            “It isn’t that, Georgie… it’s just…” I swallowed, took a deep breath. Figured it was best to just get it out. “I didn’t think you guys wanted to deal with that kind of thing.”

            “Why? You’re my _sister_ , Lanie. Of course, I want to deal with the guy who’s important to you. We _all_ do,” he retorted. “Mom and dad are dying to meet Seth… well, all of them, really. But part of that is Mom just thinks they’re all good looking. But you know what I mean.”

            _Mom and Dad_. The warmth of those words made me feel sixteen again, when Georgie and Bran and their parents, Carl and Hana, had made me part of their lives. When they told me that I would be safe, that I could stay with them for as long as I wanted.

            “Okay,” I said at last. “I’ll see what the schedule looks like for the next week or two.”

            “It’ll be good to see you, Lanie,” he said faintly.

            I said my goodbyes, apologized to Kevin when I had to dislodge him. My feet slipped silently down the hallway to the bedroom.

            The shower ran, steam rising in the bathroom. I leaned against the doorframe, listening as Seth hummed quietly to himself.

            “I know you’re there,” he said at last, his voice strained with exhaustion. “Who was that?”

            “My brother,” I said slowly. Took a deep breath, finally let the words come out. “How would you like to visit my neck of the woods next week.”

            The shower door slid open just a little. He poked his head out, soap streaking down his chest. Dark eyes suddenly filled with trepidation. “To meet your family?”

            A smile. The settling of fear and doubt. “To meet my family.”


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

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            My nerves were completely shot. Driving the big SUV down I-95 had been more than I’d wanted to endure. Raw had been in Richmond that night, and our next show was in South Carolina on Wednesday. Since we were heading that way, I’d put forth the plan that we spend the day between with Georgie and the rest of the family in North Carolina.

            Of course, once Dean heard that, he insisted that I drive.

            I hated him so much at that moment.

            My hometown was a little place on the Cape Fear River, far enough upwind to avoid the smell of the Smithfield plants. It was in the middle of nowhere, just off a two-lane highway, an hour or so drive from the beach.

            Carl and Hana Weston lived in a modest ranch-style house set back from the road on a long driveway. Magnolias lined the gravel drive, dripping leaves and vines along the top of the car. The back lawn sloped down toward a little basin with a pond and little pier where Georgie and Bran used to go sit and fish on Saturday mornings.

            The lights swept the carport, too bright in the deep shadows of two in the morning. My heart turned sideways, skittered against my ribs. Faint movement, the flashing of blue light from a television set.

            “Someone’s up,” Roman said, unhooking his seatbelt.

            Yellow, bright beside the front door. Moths sweeping toward the beacon in the night. The pale grey front door swung open, storm door still held tight. A man in black linen pants and a white t-shirt stood there, salt and pepper hair catching the light. A smile lit up his face.

            I smiled in return, knowing he couldn’t see. Dean leaned up between the seats, tried to get a better look. “That your dad? You don’t look a thing alike.”

            The sound of flesh on flesh. A muffled oomph, a set of curses. I glanced in the rearview, saw Seth smack Dean in the back of the head again.

            Eye roll. The stretch of muscle and tendon as I climbed down from the driver’s seat. Soft thump as the door closed behind me. Echoes of the sound as the others piled out.

            Seth grinned at me, gestured toward the door. “Go on. We’ve got the bags.”

            I leaned over, pressed a kiss on his cheek before heading toward the house. Carl pushed open the storm door with a grin on his face.

            “Hi, Lanie,” he said, his deep voice rumbling over me in a way that reminded me of Roman. He pulled me into a warm hug that made the whole world right—just for a moment.

            “Hey,” I replied, squeezing him as tightly as I could. “I’m sorry for the short notice.”

            He smiled, waved his hand to push the words away. “Don’t you worry about it at all. It’s good to have you home.”

            _Home_. I thought for a long time that I would never have one, not a true one anyway. Then I thought I’d found it on the road with The Shield. Perhaps I’d had one all along, one I was too stubborn to see.

            Carl’s gaze slipped over my shoulder. Electricity. A faint unease of barely controlled energy. The all-encompassing warmth of radiant heat. The air changed, grew close as the guys circled up behind me.

            “Guys, this is… my dad,” I said, turning slightly to see the proud grin on Carl’s face. “Dad, this is Roman, Dean, and…” I glanced at Seth, not sure how he wanted to be introduced.

            He sat down the bags he carried, stuck out his hand. I watched his spine straighten, shoulders square. “Colby Lopez,” he said firmly.

            Carl reached out, took Seth’s hand and gave it a firm shake. He turned to me, a quizzical look in his eye. “Your mom’s going to be upset. She thought you were bringing this Seth fella home. Nobody said anything about a Colby.”

            Seth’s face went white. Carl started to laugh, pulled Seth in to give him a welcoming hug. “Whatever you want to get called, it’s good to have you. We’ve heard enough about you.”

            I slipped my arm around Seth’s waist, gave him a heavy thump on the back. “I think Daddy likes you.”

            Roman and Dean introduced themselves, got handshakes and hugs. I led them in the house, knowing Carl was going to make sure the doors were locked and bolted tight. The television played low, some late-night infomercial selling copper pots or something. A bundle of brown and white fur curled in the armchair by the window.

            A nose popped up at our arrival, led the rest of a body to take shape as a Corgi. I grinned, stopped to scratch him behind the ears. “Hey, Thor. Who’s a good boy?”

            The hall light switched on. A shadow, followed by the form of my foster mother, Hana Weston. Her pale blond hair was tied back in a ponytail. She smiled when she saw me.

            “Lanie,” she said, rushing toward me, arms outstretched. She wrapped me up in the scent of Lily of the Valley and fabric softener. “It’s so good to have you home.”

            “Hey, Momma,” I murmured against her shoulder. She kissed me on the side of the head. “I brought some friends.”

            Hana turned toward the three men crowded around Thor the Corgi. Carl had insisted on taking a few of the bags. He seemed to know which ones mine were, shimmied past Hana and me to get down the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him sit them inside my old bedroom.

            “Well,” Hana said with a grin, “aren’t these some handsome fellas?”

            Dean grinned, looking a little rakish and a little boyish. Roman blushed a little. Seth looked slightly proud. I smirked, pleased to see how well my foster family was taking to them.

            “Hiya, I’m Dean.” He came up to Hana, swept her into a friendly hug.

            Hana kissed him on the cheek, pinched him on the chin. “So you’re the one who’s been keeping Lanie in line on the road.”

            “Getting her into trouble is more like,” Roman said from across the room.

            “Well, she’s been good at that on her own,” Carl said, standing next to his wife. “I’ve got some bad news, Hana. Lanie didn’t bring Seth with her. She brought this Colby fella instead.”

            I turned to Seth, watched him go a mixture of white and red and back again. He looked so adorably flustered that I couldn’t help but laugh.

            “I’m sorry, Momma. Seth just… well, he’s just too big a star to come to the middle of nowhere. You’ll have to settle for Colby.”

            Hana chuckled, stepped around Dean to get a good look at Seth. She put one hand on either side of his head and gave him a good once-over. After a few moments, she nodded. “I suppose you’ll do.”

            I grinned at him over her shoulder. “I suppose so.”

 

            Roman and Dean were set up in Georgie and Bran’s rooms. Seth and I were in my old room, filled as it was with alt-rock music and movie posters. I hadn’t lived there for nearly two years, but they’d kept it just the way it was the last time I’d slept in it.

            “This is where you grew up?” Seth asked quietly as we lay in bed. The house settled, making faint creaking noises every little bit.

            “For a while. They got custody of me when I was sixteen.” I snuggled in against his chest, letting my eyes drift closed. “The happiest years of my life were in this house. Hana and Carl saved my life I think.”

            He curled his arms tight around me, drew me close, kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you found a place to be loved.”

            My heart thumped painfully. I turned, kissed the side of his neck, forced back a yawn of exhaustion. “I’m glad I found you. All of you.”


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

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            The shimmer of watery light over my eyes. The faint echo of clattering dishes, murmuring voices, and the happy woofing of a spoiled canine. A wafting scent of sizzling sausage and fresh biscuits.

            I turned over, snuggled further down beneath the blankets, reached for Seth. Air. Nothingness. Cold sheets. Consciousness flooded in, heart thumping painfully as I jerked awake.

            My vision blurred for a long while, sleep stripping itself away in layers. Confusion. A forgetting of where I was, how I came to be there. The walls of my teenage bedroom came into focus. I breathed deep, felt the anxiety go rushing out of me.

            Out of bed. Wrapped my hair into a loose ponytail. A quick trip to the bathroom for a visit with the toothbrush.

            Noise filtered down the hall. It seemed everyone in the house was up except me. I grinned, wondering how my foster parents were finding my road family.

            Tingling skin. Like being watched or dumped in a vat of perfectly steaming water. An undercurrent of energy that shot along my nerves and coiled around the ember that settled at the base of my spine.

            Morning sounds at the Weston house. Sounds where my two worlds collided, overlapping, merging, sinking, collapsing and reforming into something entirely new. Thor trotted by with his favorite rope hanging from his mouth. The television trilled with sports commentary, recounting games both national and local.

            Seth sat on the sofa, coffee cup cradled in his hands. His hair was hidden beneath a worn and faded grey beanie. He was wrapped up in sweatpants and a hooded jacket, glasses on. Thor jumped up onto the sofa beside him, dropped the rope into Seth’s lap and watched him expectantly. Carl looked over from his place in his armchair, chuckled.

            “Thor, leave the boy alone. Ain’t even had his coffee yet.”

            Seth grinned, balanced the coffee cup in one hand while he scratched Thor behind the ear with the other. “I only deal with two things before I’ve had my coffee. Dogs and your daughter.”

            Carl laughed aloud. “Better man than me, boy. I had to have three cups before I could deal with Lanie.”

            “I heard that,” I said slipping out of the hallway and into the living room. Seth gave me a sideways smirk as I crossed the room.

            A glance into the kitchen saw Roman at the table, mug in hand, talking with Hana in low tones. Dean hovered at the stove, waving a spatula around as he managed a series of pans on the burners.

            “When did you learn to cook?” I gasped, stopped dead in my tracks.

            Dean turned around, hair a mess, wide grin on his face. “How do you think I got Renee? My good looks?”

            I rolled my eyes, took a detour into the kitchen to annoy him. The aroma of sausage, eggs, melted cheese, biscuits drowning in melted butter… it hit me, ran me backward into my first years with Carl and Hana. I lifted a brow, glanced back to where Roman and my foster mother sat.

            Grinning at me, Roman jerked his finger at Hana. _She did it_ , he mouthed.

            “Obviously not your acting skills. Because you haven’t’ noticed that three of those burners are off,” I said, giving him a hard pat on the back.

            Hana stood up, moved across the room toward the coffee maker. She opened the cupboard, drew out my favorite mug. “Leave the boy alone, Lanie. He’s a good one.”

            I sighed, slid into the chair next to Roman, put my head on his shoulder. “They all are.”

            “You’re not so bad yourself, _itiiti_ ,” he replied, nudging me gently. He grinned, knowing how much I liked the nickname he’d given me. It fit, since compared to all of three of them I was pretty little.

            Hana placed a cup of coffee in front of me, steaming hot and the perfect color. I pulled the mug close, set it to my lips and took a sip. My foster mother shuffled back to the stove, took the spatula from Dean and swatted him over to the table. He took the seat Hana had vacated on Roman’s other side.

            Thor’s nails clipped along the floor as he followed Carl and Seth into the kitchen. He settled at my feet as Seth sat down beside me.

            “Morning,” he said quietly, leaning over to kiss me on the side of the head.

            Time passed in a strange fashion. It seemed to crawl along at a molasses pace, every moment stretching out into days and weeks that gifted an infinite moment to enjoy my family. And yet it rushed along, sweeping from the morning toward noon like water from a sieve.

            After breakfast, the boys insisted on cleaning up. Dean washed dishes while Roman dried and stacked them. Seth followed Carl out the back door, and I stood at the edge of the deck watching as they walked toward the pond. The sky had gone bright blue, a crisp chill in the air with the sun shining high.

            The edges of a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, accompanied by the alluring perfume of Lily of the Valley. Hana leaned against the deck railing beside me, her eyes on the two men walking through the dew-laden grass.

            “You’ve found some good friends,” she said softly. “Good men, too.”

            I nodded, tugged the blanket tighter around me. Watched Seth as he stood on the edge of the pond, sipping coffee with my foster father. The rumble of Dean and Roman filtered out through the door. “I got really lucky when I got paired with them.”

            Hana put an arm around me. “I think they got lucky, too.”

            Something molten slid into my veins, toured its way through my limbs and covered my soul in something that shimmered gold and silver. It cradled the fire that kindled high whenever Seth was near. It tightened around the bond that joined me to Dean, strengthened each fiber and link. It swept across the warm sea that was Roman’s presence, reflecting it back a hundred thousand times. It was a recognition that everything had gotten bigger, that I was no longer alone.

            “And that Seth… Colby… whatever you want to call him,” Hana continued with a grin, “he’s something else.”

            I grinned, warmth blossoming in my chest. “Yeah, he is.”

            From far out, I saw him turn back toward the house. He looked so relaxed, at ease in the place where I’d first felt loved. It was as if he fit perfectly, a missing piece that I hadn’t known I needed. I smiled, not caring that he couldn’t see. Just watching him, just knowing that he was present, that he was breathing the same air and walking the same earth… it centered me in a way that very little else could.

            “Promise me you won’t stay away for too long when you settle down with that one,” she plead softly.

            Tears burned against my lashes. I wrapped my foster mother in a fierce hug. “How could I? You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

            “Nanna!”

A little voice squealed from inside the house. Thor barked wildly. Deep voices echoed back and forth.

I stepped back into the kitchen, felt a solid mass slam into my legs. “Wane!”

“Hey, squirt.” Leaning down, I hefted my nephew into my arms. His hair was sandy brown and curled against his collar. Big blue eyes and a grin that was the best thing ever. “Did you see who was here?”  
            He glanced over my shoulder, got a peek at Roman and Dean waving at him. He turned, hid his face against my neck.

The house suddenly felt smaller, the energy closer. An even more frenetic sensation spread through the air. Broad shouldered and blond, Georgie strutted into the kitchen with a broad smile.

“Where’s this Seth of yours, Lanie,” he said, a wicked gleam in his eye. “The two of us need to have a little talk.”


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

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            Silence. Tension rippling through the air like heat off the asphalt. Wedged between the radiant warmth of Roman and the undercurrent of energy that was Dean. Watching the back and forth of the two men at the table.

            Georgie sat facing where I stood by the sink. Seth had his back to me, shoulders squared as he faced the onslaught of my foster brother.

            “This is so stupid,” I whispered to Dean, who watched the whole thing with a sick kind of grin.

            “Ritual, dollface. The menfolk gotta approve of the new beau.” He put on an exaggerated southern accent, trying to look charming.

            An eye roll. A huff, crossed arms.

            “It’s just because they love you, _itiiti_ ,” Roman piped in.

            Carl and Hana had disappeared with my nephew into the backyard. The three of them had gone down to the pond with a fishing pole. Part of me wished I’d gone with them. Instead I was stuck there, watching an archaic conversation where the men decided who got possession of the little woman.

            I crossed the room, put my hand on Seth’s shoulder. “This is bullshit, Georgie.”

            My brother looked up, a wicked grin on his face. “Might be, but I can’t have this guy—Seth, Colby… doesn’t even know his own name—around you without vetting him first.”

            “Come off it. He’s amazing. He’s a good man no matter what you call him. As good as you,” I spat. Rushing in my ears. The vertigo of my blood pressure rising. “Maybe even better.”

            Seth reached up and wrapped his fingers around mine. A gentle downward tug, an easy settling of me in his lap. He slipped an arm around my back, steadying, comforting, centering.

            “I never said he wasn’t,” Georgie said smoothly. He leaned back casually in his chair, eyes flickering between Seth and me. His attention returned to Seth. “Is she like this on the road?”

            “Oh, absolutely,” came Roman’s voice from behind me. I wanted to turn, make a face at him or flip him off, but Seth held me tightly.

            “Are you happy, Lanie?” The mirth and antagonistic tone slipped away, replaced by the melodic baritone that reminded me of nights around a campfire and autumn football.

            A shower of sensation crept into my skin and twisted along sinew and nerve and bone. It was a warm tingle of energy, bundling me in a promise of protection. It was, in every way, The Shield.

            Nodding. Watching the light brighten in my brother’s eyes. A subtle drop in his shoulders, as if he no longer had to bear a heavy weight. The smile that curved his lips was more satisfied than I could remember.

            “Good,” Georgie said with pride. “Then I’ve got nothing else to say.”

            Vacancy. As if the air had been sucked from the room. A sensation of emptiness, of feeling unbalanced. My heart pulsed once. An inaudible pop rippled between the walls as oxygen rushed back in.

            My heart pulsed again, settled into a normal rhythm.

            Seth pressed his palm against the center of my back, rubbed in gentle circles. As if he could sense the anxiety that whispered in my veins. The air closed in, grew pressurized, hot. Weight on my shoulders, making me feel light.

            “Why don’t you show us that pond, dollface?” Dean said softly.

            I watched as Seth glanced to my brother. It was a dream-state vision, an action I could neither control nor stop. Frustration bubbled in my stomach. All the power had been stripped from me.

            Georgie smiled softly, gave a brief nod. His gaze followed as the three of them maneuvered me out the back door and into the bright light of a Carolina autumn. Dean hovered on one side, Seth on the other, Roman behind. Every step drained some of the unneeded adrenaline from my blood.

            Seth walked me toward the little dock that stretched out into the pond. The sound of the water along the floating platform brought me back to a time when I felt the world stable beneath my feet.

            “ _Itiiti_ ,” Roman whispered, his voice the deep viscera of thunder. His presence enveloped me with the scent of the sea and the tang of salt on the breeze. It was the centered sound of crashing waves, the eternal sound of the shaping of the earth. He spoke quietly, slowly, each syllable and vowel and consonant enunciated and flowing. Samoan words of comfort, of ground and water and wind and everything in between.

            I let myself fall into his embrace. He enveloped me in radiance, in warmth, in an acceptance that was perfect and selfless. Roman was strength. An anchor that helped me find my center.

            Slow breaths. A washing away of fear and frustration. Settling of peace.

            “Thanks, Ro,” I murmured against his shoulder.

            His only answer was one final squeeze. When he stepped away, Dean and Seth were watching with faint grins. Shadows flickered through the depths of Seth’s eyes. He carried a weight on his shoulders that I couldn’t explain.

            Dean thumped down onto the dock, sitting cross-legged. He reached up, tugged on my fingers until I sat down beside him. The others followed suit without much argument.

            “You really don’t like it when people make decisions for you, do you?” Seth asked, scooting close enough that our knees touched.

            My fingers laced with his. “I spent my whole life having people make decisions for me. I never had a say in where I went or how long I stayed. When I came here…”

            “It was the first time you had a say,” Dean stated firmly. Hazel and blue met, a quiet click of recognition. “They gave you a choice to stay with them.”

            I nodded, glancing toward Roman, drawing strength from his presence. “I know it’s from a good place, but I don’t want to feel like Georgie is deciding whether you’re good enough for me.”

            My eyes were on Seth when I spoke, but I think they knew that I meant all of them. They were all such a deep-seated part of me that I couldn’t imagine being without them in my life. _Brother_ wasn’t a word strong enough to describe what Dean and Roman meant to me. _Boyfriend, lover, partner_ …the words were just as difficult to find when it came to Seth.

            _Whatever it is…_

            Seth nodded, brought my hand up to his lips, kissed each of my fingers in turn. He glanced at the others, had a silent dialog with them.

            Roman caught my eye, extended his arm, fist in the middle of the circle we’d made. Seth followed suit, adding his free hand. Dean looked to me, asking permission before doing the same.

            I balled up my fist, bumped it into the others’. Electricity. Sunlight and warm skin. The deep energy of a high voltage wire. Lined gold and shimmering with something that spread through the three of us.

            “You belong to The Shield,” Seth said quietly, slowly. “For as long as you want to.”

            The space in my chest got smaller, filled with the volume of my heart as it expanded from the love I had for the three of them.

            “And if I never want to leave?” A question that was just as much for Seth as it was for the whole of who we were.

            “Then we’ll fight like hell to stay together,” Roman said with finality.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

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            Racing pulse. Ragged breath. Muscles that jumped and ached with anticipation. Adrenaline sloshing through my veins.

            The world stood still.

            The longer I was on the roster, the more I found myself behaving like Dean Ambrose when I waited in gorilla. Arms swung, neck arched and cracked. I bounced back and forth, trying to warm up, to get my head into the space for what awaited.

            “Let’s go, dollface,” Dean said with a smirk. Security waited nearby, ready to lead the four of us out into the concourse to the stairs.

            Roman sidled up, wrapped his arms tight around me and lifted me up into a hug. “This is it, _itiiti_. After this, you’re one step from the title.”

            The three of them gathered around as Roman set me on my feet. They huddled me in the middle, each of them with their hands on my shoulders, foreheads pressed against my hair. It was stifling, crackled with energy. Roman spoke softly in Samoan, somehow part protection and part battle cry.

            Deep breaths. The drawing of strength from the three of them. A promise that they would never give up, never let go.

            “All right,” Seth said with finality. “Let’s do this, babe.”

            Fall in, surrounded by security. Out the back, through quiet, cold hallways to the nearly empty concourse. People stopped, pulled out phones and snapped pictures and videos as we walked by. Some called out encouragement. Some heckled. All of them responded somehow.

            My heart burst against my ribs, an ache that forced the breath from my body. Panic caught tight in my throat, choking me for a long instant.

            Security cleared the path to the stairs, carefully pushing people aside so that we could pass. Quiet settled for a moment, then the crackle of radio static moved through the room.

            _Sierra…_ The crowd screamed, went wild. Eyes turned up, looking for us. The spotlight settled on us, standing out at the top of the arena.

            Seth went first, Intercontinental Championship over one shoulder. Dean went next. I came up behind him, forcing myself to take one step after the other, my eyes on the ring waiting down below. Roman filed in behind me, Universal Championship hanging off his back. People reached out, slapped us on the shoulders, tried to take selfies and other pictures. Security set them aside, growled at anyone who put hands on me.

            One by one, we climbed over the barrier. Seth did a somersault that made me roll my eyes. _Always the showoff_. Dean hopped up, swung both legs over in one swing. The two of them turned toward me, grinning as I climbed up, balanced on the top of the padded barrier. Turning to the crowd, I held out both arms. The crowd roared as I leaned back, fell into the waiting cradle made by Seth and Dean.

            They grinned, flipped me heels over head to stand on the steel steps. Roman waited on the other side of the barrier, his face split in a grin. He climbed over, looking on with pride.

            We filled the ring, Seth and Roman on the turnbuckles on either side. Dean and I bounced up on the ropes, leaned over and riled up the crowd. When we came down, he wrapped me in a hug, arms around my head as he kissed my hair.

            “You got this easy, dollface,” he said quietly. Then he turned to the audience, started shouting at them, pointing at me, calling me champion.

            The three of them slipped away out to ringside. I sighed, watched the ramp as an earsplitting guitar slide erupted from the speakers. Natalya came down the ramp, confident grin, cat ears and all. My heart dropped into my toes. It wasn’t going to be easy, and I was certain it was going to be painful as hell.

            Nattie was going to make me work for it.

            Ringing bell. An early lock up. Back and forth, a fight of strength from one end of the ring to the other. Clothesline. Cross body. Superkick. Nattie got me on the ground with a swinging neck breaker. She rolled to her feet, bounced off the ropes, stepped on my back, pushed me into the mat face first. Then she bounced off the other ropes, fell into a dropkick that nearly broke my ribs.

            I lie in the middle of the ring, gasping for breath, stared up at the lights flashing and twirling overhead. _What did I do wrong_?

            A second’s respite, then Nattie grabbed me by the boot, stepped through. Terror spiked as she rolled me over into the Sharpshooter. I knew the moment she sat down I was done. Once she locked in the submission, there was no way I could fight through it. My biggest chance on Raw and I’d fucked it up.

            A scream tore out of me when she set in. My knee felt as if it would be ripped from its place. My back was torqued in a way that I couldn’t fathom. Pain shot through every fiber of my body.

            I pushed myself up onto my hands, trying desperately not to give up and tap out. I looked out, saw Roman, Dean, and Seth circling the ring. Seth shouted to my right, Dean pounded the apron to my left. Just in front of me, Roman stood, a statue, eyes locked on me. He smirked, nodded firmly.

            Rage. A roar of pain and frustration and certainty. I pulled myself toward Roman’s waiting form, dragging inch by inch, fighting against the pain Nattie sent through my knee and back.

            Noise faded in and out. I saw Seth and Dean at the barrier, riling up the crowd. My ears opened.

            My name echoed to the rafters.

            I snatched at the ropes, forced the break. Nattie held on a moment longer. The referee started the five count. I grunted, rolled beneath the ropes the second Nattie let go.

            A faint ache in my left knee. Twinge in my lower back. I looked to Roman, to Dean, to Seth. The three of them nodded.

            I climbed the steps, slipped through the ropes. Nattie came after me, ran full speed to knock me into the turnbuckle. A quick step to the side, watching Nattie slam her shoulder into the post.

            She staggered back, turned toward me. A snap decision.

            A hard kick to the midsection. Hook of the arms. Swinging leg, Dirty Deeds square into the mat. The ref slid into place beside me as I rolled Nattie onto her back, hooked her leg, bridged up to put all my weight on her shoulders.

            One.

            Two.

            A jolt. Shove. I bounced away, Nattie throwing her shoulder up from the mat. I rolled to my knees, slammed my fists into the mat.

            Feet under me. No time to let her breathe. Nattie pulled herself to her feet with the ropes. I let her get a base beneath her, gave her a few seconds to think she might have me. When she turned back, I had no sympathy for what was about to happen.

            Running start. My feet left the floor on one side of the ring. Arms around Nattie’s middle, shoulder hard into the midsection. We hit the mat together, the air driving out of her lungs.

            I rolled her up, sat on her chest.

            _One._

_Two._

_Three._

            I rolled away, knelt in the middle of the ring, screamed my victory loud to the rafters. The Hounds jumped the ropes, surrounded me in jubilance before the referee could even raise my hand.

            “The winner of the Raw Women’s Championship Number One Contender Tournament, _Llane Black!_ ” JoJo’s voice echoed through the room, reverberated from the speakers.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

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            “Go! Go! Go!” I shouted, watching as one woman after another ran across the training ring at Black and Brave. They took turns practicing the cat climb up the corner turnbuckle, turning it into a rolling moonsault once they reached the top.

            “Tuck in your feet, Sophie!” I called to one of them, her form off enough that she was going to injure herself if she wasn’t careful.

            Seth stood at my side, leaning on the apron and watching the women run through their paces. He handed me a mixer bottle, one of those nasty as hell protein shakes he was always drinking. I waved it away with a face.

            Another one of them had frozen at the top rope. She was doubled over, feet on either side of the turnbuckle, holding on to the post for dear life. I tried to fight the instinct to roll my eyes and pulled myself up onto the apron.

            “Until this becomes automatic for you, you’re going to be terrified of it,” I said sternly. “You just have to get up here and do it.”

            She sighed, closed her eyes and shuddered with fear. I carefully guided her down the ropes until her feet were on solid mat again. Then I climbed into the ring. The women circled up around me, waiting to see what I would do.

            I looked out at Seth, motioned him into the ring. He slid beneath the bottom rope.

            “You have to get over the feeling that you’re going to get hurt. You have to get that fear out of your head,” I said, making sure I met the eyes of each one of them. “If you focus on doing things right—getting your form on point, being as safe as possible—then you cut your chances of getting hurt in half. You’re always in that ring with someone else, and you can’t control what they do. But if you do your shit the way you’re supposed to, then you’re doing everything you can.”

            I pulled Seth forward, pointed to the faint scar still running down over his right kneecap. “Colby busted his knee doing a move he’d done a million times. All that happened was that he didn’t land square on his foot, he landed on the outside instead. Months out of the ring. And he was in competition with the safest man in the entire damn company.”

            My heart fluttered as I turned around, lifted my hair out of the way. A puckered silverish scar ran down from beneath my hairline. “Surgically repaired herniated disc that was compressing my spinal cord. I was out of the ring for a year and a half. I almost lost my contract to NXT because of it.”

            I sat in the middle of the ring. The women followed suit while Seth climbed up to sit on the top turnbuckle. “The only moment in this ring that you have guaranteed is your first and your last. Everything in between is up to you. If you spend it in fear, then you don’t belong here. I’m not telling you to take unnecessary risks, but I _am_ telling you to avoid living your life between these ropes in fear that you’re going to be injured.”

            Glancing up, I caught sight of Seth watching me. His eyes were dark with something that I couldn’t name.

 

            “Were you going to tell me?” Seth asked as we sat in his living room in Davenport. Kevin was curled up on my feet while Prince stretched out beside me. I scratched his ears while Seth gently ran his fingers through my hair. Every now and then, the calloused tips ran over the scar along the back of my neck.

            Sighing. Closing my eyes. Trying to push away the feeling of agitation.

            “It’s been healed a long time,” I said quietly. “I haven’t had trouble out of it since I’ve been in the ring full time.”

            Seth twisted my hair into a ponytail, wrapped an elastic around it. “I don’t care if you haven’t had trouble with it. I still wish you’d told us. We could keep an eye out for it.”

            I turned, looked up at him, knowing my frustration was burning on my face. “If I have trouble, I’ll tell you. Until then, you don’t have to watch my every move. I’m not going to fucking break, Colby. Jesus.”

            Kevin whimpered as I got to my feet. I snatched my phone from the coffee table and went to the door, slipping on my sneakers. Without a look back, I disappeared into the darkness, slamming the door behind me.

            I didn’t know where I was going to go. No matter how many times I’d been to Davenport, I didn’t know my way around. I could have called for an Uber, done anything other than what I was doing. But I couldn’t think. Tears blurred my eyes.

            I loved everything about Seth—the parts of him that were Seth Rollins and the parts of him that were Colby Lopez. I loved that he was a nerd and that he spent nearly as much time in the gym as he did with me. I loved the passion he had for the students at his school. I loved how loyal he was to his Shield brothers. I loved how much he wanted to protect me.

            But I hated how he sometimes treated me like I was fragile. A little bump or bruise in the ring and he was ready for me to write my retirement speech. If I did so much as cough too hard or too often, he was ready for the docs to look at me. I didn’t mind that he worried about me, but I hated that he worried so much that he forgot who I was.

            Sniffling, I pulled out my phone. Swiping past the messages Seth sent trying to get my attention, I pushed in Dean’s number.

            It felt like the line took forever to connect.

            “Sup, dollface?”

            Dean’s voice was so light, so carefree that it broke the dam inside me. The sobs came free, poured out of me like a fountain. I sank down onto the curb, phone pressed tight to my ear, and cried.

            “Llane? What’s wrong?” The jovial aura bled out of Dean’s voice. It turned gruff, the sound that Georgie got when he was worried.

            “Seth…” It was all I could say. My chest ached so hard that there wasn’t breath for more.

            On the other end of the line, I heard Dean mumbling something. I figured it was Renee. In an instant, the connection crackled, voices sounding a little more distant.

            “Hey, _itiiti,_ what happened?” Roman’s voice spilled out of the speakers. I bit my fingers to keep from screaming out for the two of them.

            When I couldn’t answer, they simply talked. Their voices were soothing balms to whatever strange thing had come over me. Dean tried to tell jokes to make me laugh. When that didn’t work, Roman took over. He spoke in Samoan, words that turned into a chant and then a song. I wondered briefly if he sang to JoJo to calm her from nightmares.

            At last, after what seemed like hours, I calmed enough to be able to speak. I told them the whole story—about Black and Brave, the injury that I’d never told them about, the way Seth had looked, the way I’d responded to him.

            They shushed me, promised that they’d see me at the airport the next day.

 

            Late morning touchdown. The trip had been tepid at best. I’d finally made my way back to Seth’s place the night before, but I’d stayed in the living room. Even with Kevin as a bed buddy, it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable.

            I waited at the luggage carousel, arms crossed, tapping my foot in nervousness. Seth wasn’t far away, but his focus was on his phone. I tried not to be hurt by it—after all I’d barely spoken to him on the flight.

            Bags. Up the escalator to the main floor of the terminal. Crossing toward the rental car desk to pick up our SUV.

            They were already there, leaning against the counter with their bags at their feet. When they caught sight of us, Dean gave me a gentle smile. He pushed away from Roman and gathered me up into a warm hug. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

            “We got your back, dollface,” he murmured.

            From over Dean’s shoulder, I heard the rumbling tone in Roman’s voice.

            “We need to fucking talk, boy.”


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

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            “You called them?” Seth hissed at me in the backseat of the SUV. He and Roman had taken a rather lengthy _walk_ after we’d picked up the rental.

            It wouldn’t have surprised me if Roman put him in a headlock when they were out of sight of everyone.

            “I’m sorry,” I snapped back sarcastically. “I was kinda pissed and wanted to talk to someone other than your overprotective ass.”

            “Overprotective?” he retorted, leaning back as if I’d just slapped him. “Overprotective.”

            “Hell yes.”

            Up front, Roman and Dean tried their best not to listen. I knew they heard every word.

            “Am I not supposed to care? Is that what you want?” Seth’s voice took on a fierce tone. “I get that you don’t want people making decisions for you. But I’m not sorry if caring about you is being overprotective.”

            “No,” I spat, holding up my hand to stop him. “You’re not going to turn this around on me, Colby Lopez.” I only really used his real name when we were at Black and Brave or if I was thoroughly done with his bullshit. “I never said that I didn’t want you to care about me. What I said was that I was pissed you were being overprotective.”

            “What—”

            “Shut the hell up,” Roman said sternly from the driver’s seat. “It’s time you started listening.”

            For a moment, I didn’t think Seth would agree. It was hard enough at the best of times to get him to keep his mouth shut. When he was riled up, it was nearly impossible. And just then, it was pretty clear that Seth was about as riled up as I’d ever seen him outside of the ring. Part of me wanted to beg Roman to stop somewhere so Dean and I could switch seats. I suddenly didn’t want to be caught up with Seth in the back seat of the SUV for the rest of the drive.

            Then, surprisingly, Seth let out a huff and leaned back against the seat, body turned toward me. He crossed his arms and lifted a brow, silently urging me to continue.

            “I know that you want to keep me safe, Seth. After everything I’ve told you about what it was like growing up… I know you worry. And it’s sweet, it really is,” I said softly. My fingers itched to reach out to him, but he didn’t look as if he’d welcome it just then. “But I need you to remember that I’m in the same business as you. Hell, I’m helping to train people at _your_ school. I can take care of myself.”

            My eyes drifted forward, caught sight of Dean. He gave me a nod and a faint smile.

            “Can you _not_ do that?” Seth huffed.

            “Do _what?_ ” I responded, trying not to let too much of my temper flare.

            “Look at Dean and Ro like they’re going to just solve everything for you. You sure as hell don’t like me making decisions for you, but you don’t seem to mind if one of them turn into your knight in shining armor.”

            Rushing in my ears. Blood pounding in my temples. An ache settling in my chest, a punch harder than anything I’d felt in the ring.

            “Wow,” I said, doing everything I could to relax. It didn’t work very well. “You are a selfish bastard, you know that?”

            “How am I being selfish, Llane? I’ve told you everything. Even the worst parts of me, I’ve shown them to you. But you can’t even trust me to tell me about who you really are.”

            I turned in the seat, made sure that I was looking Seth Rollins right in the eye. I was completely finished with his bullshit. “This isn’t fucking about you! Not everything is about Seth _Fucking_ Rollins. Just once… once… can you step out of your own ego and think about someone else.”

            “I am thinking about you! You getting hurt in the ring is something I worry about!”

            “I can take care of myself. I know how to be safe. You should know that about me, at the very least.”

            “Llane…”

            Fury. Hurt. Embarrassment. Shame.

            “Stop,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just stop.”

           

            The rest of the drive was silent. I moved as far away from Seth as I could in the confined space. When we finally made it to the arena, I was out of the car and grabbing my bags before the wheels even came to a stop.

            “I’ll see you in gorilla before the match, Dean,” I shot over my shoulder. Then I was gone.

            I tried not to cry. I really did. But I couldn’t get over the fact that Seth didn’t trust me to do my job. That he didn’t trust me at all.

            Bayley saw me looking less than chipper and offered to let me share her locker room. It was painful to be so far away from the others, even when Seth and I were fighting. The ache was like a limb had been removed.

            I dressed for the match in silence. Instead of my Hounds of Justice shirt, I decided to wear my Lunatic Llane one. The Black and Brave wrist straps stayed behind. I taped my wrists up instead.

            “Good luck tonight,” Bayley said as I slipped out of the locker room.

            I glanced back, sighing. “You, too, Bays,” I replied. We were fighting—Team B’N’B versus Lunatic Llane.

 

            They were there, Roman and Seth hanging out in our corner. It was just a fun match for the night—no real heels, no real faces—just a good mixed match show. Dean was in the ring with Finn, the direction of the match going back and forth. My partner avoided a slingblade but got caught with a running clothesline.

            “We need to talk,” Seth said from behind me. He had one foot on the bottom steel step.

            “Not now,” I ground out, watching as Dean chopped Finn’s leg out from beneath him. Bayley pounded the turnbuckle across the ring, egging her partner on.

            I barely caught the tag between Finn and Bayley. My dash into the ring was too slow. Bayley caught me hard with a running crossbody. It was so sudden that I didn’t have time to tuck my chin. The back of my head bounced off the mat, I saw stars.

            Before I could register what happened, Bayley was on me, had me rolled up so that all her weight kept my shoulders to the mat. The referee counted—one… two… three…

            The bell rang.

            My first loss on the roster.

            One that wasn’t even supposed to happen. I was the number one contender for the Raw Women’s title for god’s sake.

            Dean ran into the ring, hovered over me as I lay flat out in the middle of the mat. He looked me over, a worried furrow to his brow. “You good?”

            I rolled onto my hip, sat up, gripping the back of my head. The world tilted sideways. “Yeah.”

            “C’mon, let’s get you backstage. I don’t like how your head hit, dollface.”

            “I’m fine, Dean,” I spat, rolling out of the ring. I pushed away from the apron, ignoring the concerned look on Roman’s face. My head pounded as I stalked up the ramp, every jolt making me feel like I was going to be sick.

            Backstage, I was swept along into the trainer’s room. Mandatory evaluation after a blow to the head like that. While they looked me over, the Shield hovered by the door. The three of them came in, gave me concerned glances. Dean sat on the table beside me.

I refused to look at Seth.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

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            Silence.

            It was painful beyond anything I’d imagined. Being near Seth was more than I could bear, and I did my best to stay out of his way when we didn’t have to be together. For the next week, I spent most of my time riding with Bayley or Finn. A few times, I went with Dean and Renee. I didn’t ask anyone to choose sides.

            But I think they took them anyway.

            For a week, I stayed in my own room. I suppose Seth went back to bunking with Roman and Dean, but I didn’t ask any questions. We were barely able to function in front of the cameras as it was. I’m sure Stephanie and Triple H were watching, that they knew something was up. I dreaded the day they called us to the carpet for it.

            “Are ya all right, love?” Finn asked as we drove out of the garage after Raw one night.

            We were rolling up on eight days since that fight in the car, and I spent most of my days miserable. I knew I was pale and had lost weight. The makeup girls gave me sympathetic looks whenever they had to cover up the circles beneath my eyes.

            “I’m good, Finn,” I said quietly. It was just the two of us since Bayley had decided to ride with Sasha.

            He shook his head, watching me from the corner of ice-blue eyes. “Don’t lie ta me, Llane. Ya look ‘alf dead an’ ‘alf miserable.”

            I gave him a sad kind of smile. “That’s about how I feel actually. It’s just…” I sighed, looked out the window to watch the highway lights pass by. “It’s not your problem.”

            “Ya can talk ta me. I’ve got good ears,” he teased, pretending to wriggle his finger into his ear as if to clean it out.

            I giggled, found myself smiling for the first time in days.

            “There ya go. Smilin’s what ya need righ’ now.”

            My heart felt a little lighter. I turned toward him, realizing how much of a friend he could be. “It isn’t that I’m upset about losing that match. Or that Seth’s distraction made it happen. It’s that he can’t see past his own ego. He’s always knees deep in this _architect_ bullshit, thinking he has to control and manage everything and everyone. And he does it, knowing how much I fucking hate it.”

            Finn sat quietly and listened. He let me vent, gave me silent permission to say whatever I needed to get off my chest. When I finished, I leaned back in the seat, suddenly feeling like the venom had been sucked out of my veins. Some of the anger was gone. Just saying it seemed to exorcise a good chunk of it.

            “Feel better?”

            A nod. A glance across the car. A smile that was warm and kind.

            “Yeah,” I sighed. “Yeah, I do.”

            “Good,” Finn replied. “Then ya won’ mind if we take a little detour before the hotel.”

            Curiosity. A brow lifting toward my hairline. “What kind of _detour_ , Finn?”

            A wicked grin ghosted across his lips. “You’ll see.”

 

            The detour turned out to be a little dive bar turned Irish style pub. Finn parked on the street, came over to open my side. He grinned, explaining how this was his favorite place to go when he came to the city. The closest thing to home cooking apparently.

            He led me to a high-top table near the back. I glanced at the menu, trying to figure out what half the stuff was. I suppose my confusion showed on my face because Finn started chuckling.

            “Ya migh’ wan’ ta go for simple,” he said with a smirk. “No one ever wen’ wrong with fish n’ chips.”

            I nodded. “Then we’re gonna go with that.”

            We talked in the late night quiet until the waitress came over. She was pretty, long brown hair and fine features. She grinned at both of us. A little spark in her eye told me she recognized us. Imagine my surprise when she left the table grinning at _me_ rather than Finn.

            “Don’ look so surprised, love. I’m sure ya got yer fair share of lady admirers. Ya sure got enough male ones.”

            “Shut up,” I said playfully, feeling my cheeks burn with a blush. “I don’t want to talk about admirers right now.”

            He made a face, acceptance of another line of conversation. We chatted about trivial things while we waited for our food. When it finally arrived, we spent more time focusing on our plates than on each other. Finn had a pint of Guinness. I settled for two glasses of wine instead.

            “So,” Finn said, elbow on the table, cheek propped against his fist. “What really happened wit’ Seth?”

            “I don’t want to talk about Seth right now,” I retorted. My whole body felt wonky. It had been ages since I’d eaten anything of substance, and certainly not enough to make my stomach feel full. The wine wasn’t helping, and the waitress was on the way back with a third glass.

            “What do ya wan’ ta talk about then?”

            A shrug. A sharp tang of pain in my lip, teeth biting down to stop tears. Blinking. Pushing back the burning in my eyes.

            Finn tapped his fingers against the edge of the table. He grinned, looking frustratingly adorable. “Come on then,” he said, waving away the waitress and my third glass. He dropped a couple bills on the table and walked around, grabbed me by the hand. “Some fresh air will do ya good.”

            He drew me toward the door. The night air was crisp and cold. The streets were quiet, just a few cars going by and people meandering up and down the sidewalk. Finn hooked my hand into the crook of his elbow and tucked the other hand in his pocket. Neither of us had any particular destination in mind, so we just walked. After a while, I let my head rest against his shoulder.

            “Don’ do nothin’ you’ll regret in the mornin’, love,” he said quietly.

            A nod. A recognition of how truly broken my heart was. How desperately I missed Seth. How much it felt as if my soul had been ripped out being away from the three of them. And as kind as Finn was… it didn’t feel right.

            “You’re a good man, Finn Bálor.”

            He chuckled. “That’s what all the girls say.”

            I giggled in return.

 

            We meandered up and down the street for almost an hour. The wine had nearly worn off by the time we made it back to the car. According to Finn, we were only a few minutes away from the hotel anyway.

            There were a few other cars in the unloading loop when we pulled up in front. Braun Strowman and Alexa Bliss were filing in the front when I opened my door. Ember and Nattie were already inside, standing at the front desk checking in. I gave Finn a little smile when he held out his hand to help me down from the SUV. It wasn’t that big of a drop, but it was sweet anyway.

            “Let’s get ya inside, love. My mam always said food, some fresh air, and a good night’s sleep could cure anythin’.”

            I found myself smiling even more, glad for his easy friendship. “Ask me in the morning and we’ll see how right she was.”

            He handed me my backpack and insisted on pulling my suitcase inside. I held open the door, grinning widely, blushing just a little, as he maneuvered everything inside.

            When I looked up, I caught sight of our old SUV pulling in. Roman was driving. He gave me a little wave, a contented smile. Dean’s head popped out the back window, hair hidden beneath a beanie, and yelled out, “Sup, dollface!”

            Seth sat in the passenger seat.

            He looked like he was going to be sick.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

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            “Hey _itiiti_ ,” Roman said as he walked up behind us in the lobby. He settled a heavy arm over my shoulder and pulled me in against his side. Radiant warmth settled into my skin. It was the peace of the ocean as he dropped a kiss on the crown of my head.

            I smiled and slipped my arm around his waist. “Hey, Ro.”

            He let his head drop closer toward me. “You look happier tonight.”

            “I had two glasses of wine,” I whispered. I shrugged and looked up at him. “Finn is really good at making people feel better.”

            Roman nodded. “That he is. He’s a good guy. You like him?”

            I tried not to roll my eyes. “I’m still with Seth, if that’s what you mean. Even if we haven’t talked in a week.”

            “Just make sure he knows that,” Roman said at last. He gave me a final hug and slipped away toward the desk.

            My heart sank. A voice nagged at the back of my head, wondering why Roman would say something like that. Wondering exactly what had been happening in my absence.

            Once I got my room, I dragged my stuff to the elevator. It seemed to take forever to arrive.

            Electricity shot through my limbs. Burned along every muscle and nerve and bone. It was so strong that I thought I was going to pass out. It mixed with the alcohol in my system and tilted the floor sideways.

            _Seth_. _Colby_. _Home_.

            I turned without really thinking about it. He stared back at me with dark chocolate eyes. There were circles beneath them that looked like purple bruises. He had his glasses on, hair hidden beneath a flat brim snapback.

            “Hey,” I said, finding it hard to look him in the eye. My fingers trembled.

            He leaned against the wall on the other side of the elevator, stuck his hands deep in his sweatpants pockets. “Hey.”

            A heavy silence. Awkwardness that felt unnatural. Like we were two strangers waiting to go our separate ways.

            “You had a good match tonight,” I mumbled. I had been ringside for it, but I had broken off from the guys as soon as I could.

            I watched him from beneath my lashes. He nodded, stared down at his shoes. “Thanks. You… uh… you looked like you were having a good time. With Finn.”

            It was like a punch to the gut. “He’s nice.”

            “You looked happy.” Seth said it with sadness in his voice. “Really happy.”

            I felt sick. “He distracted me. Gave me something else to think about.”

            “Can we talk? Please?” He whispered it. I almost didn’t hear the words.

            “I’d like that,” I whispered back. My fingers itched to touch him, but I somehow felt like I didn’t have the right. It felt like a gulf spread between us. One that I couldn’t get across. “Just… not tonight, okay? Tomorrow morning?”

            Seth’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you in the morning.”

            The elevator dinged, doors slid open with a whoosh. I tugged on my suitcase, maneuvered it into the car, hit the button for my floor. I tucked my hand in the door, holding it open for Seth to come on. When he didn’t, I gave him a quizzical glance.

            “I’m going to take the stairs,” he said quietly. He lifted his bags and disappeared into he stairwell across the hall.

            Tears blurred my vision, burned down my cheeks. Just before the door closed, Finn slipped in. He gave me a faint smile.

            “It’ll be all righ’ in the mornin’, love.”

 

            When morning came, I was surprised to find that Finn’s mother was right. I felt better than I had in days. Just having some time away from all the drama and the heartbreak—a few hours of calm and peace—made things much easier to bear.

            I brushed my hair and tied it up in a high ponytail. Then I threw on a faded DX t-shirt and a pair of leggings. I was desperate for something to eat, but I had to take care of something else first.

            His number popped up easily, our last text conversation still stored in the memory of my phone. I dashed off a quick message.

            _What room are you in?_

            I waited two minutes. Five. Ten. By the time fifteen went by, I figured he was either asleep or ignoring me.

            _I’ll be downstairs at breakfast if you want to talk._

            I took the stairs, needing some movement to keep my anxiety from bubbling over. By the time I hit the main lobby, I felt like I could breathe again.

            “Morning, dollface,” Dean said as I walked into the little breakfast café. He was walking by with a plate filled high with food. “Come sit with me.”

            I grabbed a plate and loaded it up with everything I could find that looked tasty. Then I snatched a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. When I finally sank into the seat across from Dean, he had already inhaled half of what was on his plate.

            “You look better,” he said, mouth half-full of food. “Still like shit, but, y’know… not horrible shit.”

            Eyes rolled to the back of my head. A grin stretched over my face. “Gee, thanks, Dean.”

            He grinned back, shrugged, waved his fork at me. “The both of you are stubborn as hell.”

            “I know.”

            “Now look, I’m not saying what he did was right.” Dean leaned across the table, getting dangerously close to covering his shirt with maple syrup. “He’s got an ego bigger than the whole fucking state of Iowa, but he’s a good guy. Well, decent. Well… he’s getting there.”

            My smile went a little sad, a reminder of the things Seth had done in past relationships. Something I feared more than any kind of injury. “I’m no angel myself.”

            Dean shrugged. “Might be. And he might be a jerk. He might have his head so far up his own ass—”

            “You made your point, Ambrose,” Seth grumbled from behind me. I jumped at the sound of his voice.

            I had been so focused on the buzzing energy that surrounded Dean that I’d missed the telltale frizz of electricity along my spine at Seth’s arrival. I turned, caught sight of Seth hovering over me looking as if he literally just rolled out of bed.

            Dean smirked and slid out of his seat. He dropped a brotherly kiss on the top of my head as he passed by.

            “Now I’ve got syrup in my hair, asshole!” I shouted after him, grinning.

            He shouted back. “Need to wash it anyway. You stink.”

            I flipped him off, glad there weren’t any other people in the café. By the time I returned my attention to the table, Seth had already taken up a place across from me. I let my fork clatter against the plate, curled my palms around my coffee cup. The warmth was comforting, making me think of Roman.

            “God, I miss that,” I mumbled.

            “He misses you, too,” Seth said as he settled in. One arm rested on the table, the other in his lap. “We all do.”

            My chest ached. “I miss you guys, too. So much.”

            He was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, it shattered my heart to pieces. “Is it just the Shield? Or do you miss me like I miss you?”


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

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            The silence was deafening. I imagined I could see the gulf between Seth and me getting wider every second. My heart squeezed, the last remaining pieces of it settling in chest.

            “Do you really have to ask that?” I whispered, aching to reach out and touch him. I just wanted him back like before.

            “I don’t know, Llane. Do I?” Seth leaned back in his chair, face looking haggard and worn.

            I sighed, desperately trying not to cry. “Why are you making this so difficult? I love you—Seth, Colby, all of you. But if you can’t stop trying to micromanage everything about me and what happens when I’m in the ring, I don’t know if I can deal with that. You _know_ how that makes me feel.”

            “I’m making it difficult? Llane,” he hissed, leaning forward. His finger tapped the top of the table, punctuating every word out of his mouth. “I trust _you_ in that ring. I know you know how to do your shit. But I can’t control what other people do, and that scares the _hell_ out of me. If you got hurt…”

            “Then I get hurt, Seth! It’s part of this business!”

            “I _know_ that! But I love you—” He stopped, looked at me as if he was just seeing me for the first time. “I love you so much it terrifies me. If something happened to you, I don’t know how I could deal with it.”

            For a moment, I wanted to be kind. I wanted to draw him into my arms, hold him, promise that we’d be together, and everything would be fine. But I couldn’t make those words come out.

            Instead, I met Seth’s gaze. “Do you hear yourself, Seth? Do you have any idea how many times you said ‘I’ in that sentence? I don’t doubt that you love me. Hell, it’s one of the only constants I have in this nomad lifestyle of ours. But sometimes I wonder if you love yourself more.”

            He stopped as if he’d been slapped. An instant, a moment, an hour, a day. Time passed and stood frozen. Seth sank back, seemed to fold in on himself.

            “I love you, Seth. I just need you to let go of the control. Love me, support me, just don’t try to micromanage me.”

            I stood, fighting the urge to throw myself into his arms and just make everything better. He watched as I circled around the table and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. My chest ached as if it were caving in. Tears rolled hot over my cheeks.

            Before I lost my nerve, I spun on my heel and walked away.

            The tears came when the doors of the elevator slid closed. My throat closed. I couldn’t breathe. Everything turned blurry. The world spun off its axis. Vomit clawed up from my stomach.

            A violent clashing washed into my veins. Adrenaline turned me sideways. Panic ripped me inside out. Terror weighed me down, broke my bones. Despair held me down, forcing me beneath the waves that would drown me if given half the chance.

            “Oh, dollface,” came Dean’s voice from somewhere far away. His chaotic energy simmered over me just as his hands and arms gathered me up from the floor.

            He held me carefully against his chest. The strength of his arms gave me comfort. His nearness, even with the buzz of _being_ that came with him, gave me an anchor to grasp.

            “Breathe,” he said softly. It was a gentle chant, repeated with every step he took.

            Dean stopped, knocked the toe of his boot against a door a few times, hoisted me a little tighter. His face swam above me, softened with the tears beading on my lashes.

            I heard the rumble of Roman’s voice, felt a wash of soothing heat. Dean’s voice mingled in with Roman’s, the two of them trying to figure out what to do. Or perhaps they were trying to convince one another that it wasn’t a good idea to inflict bodily harm on their brother.

            I swayed as Dean sat down, gathered me in his lap. He tucked my head beneath his chin and ran his fingers through my hair. He whispered _breathe_ over and over again.

            Words filtered through my thoughts. _Emotional support Dean_. I chuckled, though the sound came out more like a sob.

            At last, the tension began to drain out of me. The adrenaline dripped one ounce after another into nothingness. Exhaustion swept in, crashing like waves into the place vacated by the anxiety and fear. It felt as if the whole of who I was had been scooped away, thrown out.

            I was hollow. Empty.

            Dean pressed his cheek against the top of my head. One hand rubbed softly along my arm. The other stroked gently in my hair.

            “How you feeling, dollface?” he murmured.

            I sighed, blinked. Tried to gather my thoughts and my courage. “Better.”

            “Good,” Dean said, giving me a squeeze and a kiss on the crown. “Anything else I can do?”

            My heart shuddered, pieces yanking themselves together. I sat up, moved so I could sit next to him, legs draped over his lap. He let the weight of his arms rest on them, giving me a reminder of his anchoring presence.

            “You’ve done more than enough, Dean,” I replied with a faint smile. “You shouldn’t have to deal with all this mess. It isn’t your problem.”

            He shrugged, gave me a sideways grin. “It’s what family’s for, dollface. I know how it feels.”

            I reached out, rested my fingers on the curve of his bicep. “It means the world to me. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

            Dean kept up a steady stream of chatter, though little of it really meant anything. He gave me a distraction. He gave me permission to hurt, to pull the pieces of myself back together, to feel whole again.

            The door opened and Roman poked his head around the edge. There was a broad grin on his face as he pushed inside with his foot.

            “I’ve got a surprise, _itiiti_ ,” he said, hands hidden behind his back.

            I felt my brows lift. I might feel as if I’d been run over by an emotional eighteen-wheeler, but that didn’t mean I was averse to surprises. “Really? What is it?”

            Roman came the rest of the way into the room. “I’ve been told there are three things that make just about everything better.”

            I looked at Dean, who glanced back just as confused as me.

            “Something about food, fresh air, and a good night’s sleep?”

            A figure appeared at the doorway. Finn stood there with a faint smirk on his face. He was dressed in a t-shirt, some jeans that looked like they’d been tailored for him, and a fitted lightweight leather jacket. There were a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of his head.

            “Seems like ya need ta get out of the place for a while, love,” he said. “How ‘bout da t’ree of us go see the sights?”

             Roman looked from Finn back to Dean and me. “What d’you say, Llane?”

            Dean shrugged. Renee wasn’t with us, so he didn’t have any reason to stay behind at the hotel. I smiled at him, knowing that no matter how rough the seas got, he would always anchor me safely.

            “Sure. Why not?”

            Finn’s smirk turned into a wide smile. “Good. Get yourselves together. I’m not goin’ out in public wit’ any of ya lookin’ like that.”

            He threw me a wink and spun away, calling over his shoulder that he’d be back in half an hour.

            Roman crossed the room, held out his hand. A bag with the name of a local boutique swung on the ends of his fingers. “Can’t let Dean and Finn do all the work cheering you up.”


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

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            A whistle. A series of calls and compliments as I walked down the hall toward the room Dean and Roman shared. They were both standing outside in street shoes, relaxed fit jeans, and tees. Dean had his black leather jacket while Roman was tugging on a navy-blue pullover.

            The bag Roman had given me was a teal and grey chevron patterned sweater dress. It was warm and soft, hugging my curves in just the right way while still being comfortable and roomy. I’d paired it with a pair of grey leggings and a set of Uggs. My phone and money had been stuffed in a little purse that I wore across my chest.

It might have been the middle of the day, but it was cool out and it was nice to just be dressed up for a while.

            “Wow,” Dean said, leaning back just a little and giving me a wide eyed once over. “You look… well, if I weren’t a married man…”  
            I rolled my eyes and backhanded him on the chest. “Eww. Shut up.”

            Roman grinned at his side. “Your hair looks great like that.”

            A blush burned over my cheeks. I’d given it a quick turn with the curling iron just to make it behave. It fell around my shoulders in red-streaked waves. Putting it back up just seemed like too much of a hassle.

            “Thanks, Ro,” I said, tucking a lock of it behind my ear.

            We stood outside the room, chatting as we waited for Finn to come back. Dean drew me against his side, arm thrown over my shoulders. He leaned his head against mine.

            “Seriously, Llane. You look beautiful.” Hearing it from him made the blush burn even deeper. “Want to go torture Sir Head-Up-His-Ass with it?”

            I sighed. “No. I just want to have some time without drama.”

            “No drama. If it’s wha’ ya wan’, it’s wha’ ya get, love.” Finn’s voice grew louder as he came around the corner. He stopped dead when he finally looked at us.

            At me.

            His blue eyes went wide. Color burned high on his cheeks. I watched the expression on his face change from his easy smile to surprise to something unreadable. I looked away, feeling self-conscious.

            Beside me, Roman looked at his watch. “We should get going if we want to have enough time to do anything. You know we’ll get stopped half a dozen times.”

            “Lead the way,” Finn said, his voice sounding a little choked.

            Dean drew me with him as he walked toward the elevator. Roman and Finn fell in behind us, talking in low tones about where we might end up. Everything from the morning had pulled out every bit of energy I had in me, and I was more than a little hungry.

            “We’re getting the fresh air,” I said as we waited by the elevator doors. “And I’ll sleep after the show tonight. Where’s my food?”

            Finn looked at Roman, brow quirked. Roman shrugged, grinning at me like a proud big brother. “Hey, man,” he said, putting up his hands, “she does what she wants.”

            “Damn right,” Dean tossed in, curling his arm around my neck a little more. “We’ve tried for months to train her, but she ain’t house broke yet.”

            I rolled my eyes at him, doing my best not to sock him in the ribs.

            “Lady’s choice then,” Finn replied, giving me a little mock bow.

            A giggle. A rush of happiness at being listened to. A little jab of shame at having fun without Seth.

            “That pub from last night. I want to try that… what was it you had?”

            “Bacon blaas and champs.”

            We stepped into the elevator, Dean making a face. “I only heard one food in there. _Bacon_.”

 

            “Ya look nice, Llane,” Finn said as we sat across from one another at the pub. He had his hand around his glass of Guinness, turning it slowly on the tabletop. He didn’t look at me directly, just from beneath his lashes.

            I smiled and tilted my chin toward Roman, who was in the back playing darts with Dean. “A gift from Ro. To cheer me up.”

            “Seems like it worked.”

            A shrug. Fingers toying with the straw in my soda. A retreat into the corner of the booth.

            “I’m sorry,” Finn lamented. “I know ya got somethin’ goin’ on wit’ Rollins. I’m not tryin’ ta chat ya up.”

            My heart skidded in my chest, not entirely sure if it wanted to go faster or slower. “Seth is… Seth. And everything that comes with it. He and I will work this out or we won’t. But I won’t let it be the reason that the Shield gets busted up again.”

            “Well, ya can’ control that, love.” He glanced over his shoulder to look at Roman and Dean arguing playfully over whether a dart was 5 or 10 points. “Do they mean enough to ya ta be miserable at work every night?”

            The answer came without thought. It was so simple that I knew it in my bones.

            “Yes.”

 

            Lacing up my boots was like strapping on armor. It made me feel like I could do anything. And I needed it since I was facing Bayley in one-on-one after losing last week.

            The sports tape sat on the bench by my bag, waiting. I stared at it for a long while before digging my Black and Brave straps from the front pocket. They felt strange after a week’s worth of shows without them.

            “C’mon, dorks, it’s almost time,” I shouted, pounding on the door of their dressing room a few minutes later.

            It swung open, revealing Seth in the new Shield shirt—the one that had my fist squished in with the others, my logo on my glove. His hair was shiny, dripping water down his back.

            “Are you guys gonna make me go out there by myself tonight?” I asked, hoping my voice sounded normal.

            For a moment, Seth looked at me. It seemed like he tried to memorize the shape of my face, the sound of my voice. Ice dropped into my stomach. Fear spiked my veins.

            _Whatever this is…_ I thought, terror-filled… _don’t let it be over._

            “Do you mind if it’s just me?” he queried, voice barely loud enough for me to hear. “If not, the guys are ready.”

            The relief was heady. I smiled, watched the light come back into his eyes.

            “Yeah.” Fingers flexed. Itched. Reached toward him. “Just you.”

            His lips turned up. I finally saw how much it hurt him to feel like I didn’t want him. That I’d chosen the other two and left him behind.

            “Just you is great,” I said softly, stepping toward him. Our fingers brushed together. A shock ran straight through me, singeing my nerves, lighting up every neuron in my brain.

 

            “Change of plans,” I whispered to Bayley as we were locked together in the center of the ring. Her look was enough to tell me she understood.

            I whispered the new direction. She nodded in agreement.

            She whipped me into the corner, and I came out with a clothesline. The ring vibrated with her landing. Bayley took her time getting up, rolling toward her side. I glanced down at Seth who was crouched on the bottom of the steel steps. Euphoria rushed through me. I knew my face was lit up with a smile. I hoped he knew it was for him.

            Turn. Run. A boot to the back of the neck.

Curb stomp. Seth’s curb stomp.

I dropped into the cover, hooking Bayley’s inside leg. The sound of the referee’s hand hitting the mat echoed in my ears.

One one-thousand… _He’s trying._

Two one-thousand… _I knew who he was when I started this._

Three one-thousand… _We can do this together._

The bell rang. Shouts, screams, stomping, and chanting. It all bled away when I rolled to my feet and got swept up into a fierce hug. Seth pulled me against his chest, his mouth near my ear.

“You deserve the best. Help me be what you deserve,” he whispered.

We drew apart, looking at one another in the center of the ring as if thirty-thousand people weren’t watching our every move. His dark eyes were pleading. Something twisted in my chest. I missed him so much.

I had barely nodded when his lips crashed down against mine. His arms wrapped tight around me, lifting me off the mat.

Noise rushed in. Clapping. Wolf-whistles.

“We’re in trouble,” I whispered, knowing Triple H would be back stage waiting for us.

“Fuck it,” Seth replied quietly.  


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

_(GIF owned by thearchitectwwe on Tumblr)_

            I looked into the mirror, making sure I stripped off every bit of the makeup that I wore to the ring. The little imperfections that were hidden from the cameras came into view slowly. Freckles. A faint pink to my cheeks that never quite went away. A scar just beneath my right ear from a fall early in my career.

            Warm water. The wafting scent of apricots. Soothing cream.

            I ran a brush through my hair, decided to leave it down. After a quick turn with the toothbrush, I slipped out of the bathroom into my hotel room.

            Seth sat on the end of the bed, head down, looking at his hands. His backpack sat between his feet. His suitcases were propped up against the wall by the door. For a moment, I stayed still, drinking in the sight of him. No matter where I was or how long it had been, I knew deep in my soul that I would always recognize his profile. The slope of his nose, the wing of his cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw softened by his beard.

            I smiled softly, leaning against the wall.

            “Hey,” I said at last, watching the way his emotions blurred across his face when he looked at me. The want and adoration in his eyes were a heady feeling. It spilled power into my body, a confidence I didn’t know I could possess.

            His gaze was a physical touch that stroked along my arms, across my belly, down the line of my thighs and calves. Fire exploded along my spine. Every glance from him was gasoline on the flames.

            Seth unfolded his tall frame and crossed the room in a few strides. He towered over me, filling the space with his heat and scent. Goosebumps sprang up over my skin. Every part of me strained to get closer to him, to trace the rise and fall of the muscles that he worked so hard to maintain, to feel the strength of his arms as they wrapped around me.

            To revel in the way that my soul ignited when he was inside me.

            My teeth caught my bottom lip. I watched his eyes go immediately to my mouth. I heard the growl that rose up from the depths of his throat. My heart raced in my chest. The waiting was agony.

            “Tell me,” he said slowly, his voice deep and heavy with the promise of something darkly delicious. “What do you want, Llane?”

            Lightheaded. An inferno raged out of control in my veins. My words came out in a rushed whisper. “You. All of you. Every inch, every shadow, every little piece of you.”

            His fingers came up, brushed gently against my skin. He slid his hand along my neck, delved into the thickness of my hair. Seth moved closer. I was trapped between the wall and his body. I was consumed with everything about him.

            It was exactly where I wanted to be.

            He tipped my head back just so. In an instant, his mouth was on mine in a languid kiss that seemed to go on forever. His tongue danced with mine and traced the swell of my lower lip. An arm slipped around my back, wedged between me and the wall, and drew me tightly against him.

            Want coiled low in my belly. Turned my knees to water.

            Seth drew away, color splashed along his cheeks, pupils blown wide. “Fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. The rough pad of his thumb stroked along my lips. “I’ve missed you.”

            My breath hitched at the lust and hidden power in his voice. If he didn’t touch me soon, the inferno within me was going to engulf me. “Show me.” The words were quiet, almost innocent.

            He growled, a sound that went straight to my center. A grin spread over his face as he moved like a striking snake. The world tilted as he caught me up in his arms and tossed me over his shoulder. He held me with a strong arm along the back of my thighs. My head hung just at the small of his back, giving me a great view of his sculpted behind.

            “Show you, hmm?” he said, that darkness creeping into his voice once more. “Are you sure about that?

            A whimper burst out of me. “Uh huh.”

            Stinging pain. An ache between my legs. The realization that he’d slapped me on the ass.

            _Spanked me_ , I thought with fascination. _He spanked me! And I liked it._

            I wriggled. His hold on me tightened. “Just remember, Llane, that you asked for this.”

            Anticipation and fear warred in my thoughts. Trust wasn’t a problem I had with Seth. I knew beyond any doubt that he wouldn’t hurt me physically. What wonderful, delicious thoughts were running through his mind?

            He dropped me onto the mattress. Before I’d even stopped bouncing, he had tugged his shirt off and tossed it aside. He stood by the bed in his bare feet, jeans slung low on his hips in a way that amplified the sculpted cut of his abs and the deep V over his hips.

            Another whimper, one that mixed with a deep moan of want. Every inch of my body was attuned to him. Waiting. Anticipating. Wanting. Needing.

            Seth circled to the end of the bed. The mattress dipped as he climbed up. Fingers stroked slowly along my legs, up over my calves and knees. His palms ghosted over the curve of my thighs, around the rise and fall of my hips. Thumbs rubbed along the fabric of my panties in the spot where thighs and torso met.

            A deep intake of breath. Stillness. A precipice, a line that once crossed would be forever behind us.

            The sound of rending fabric echoed. Cool air raced along heated skin. Seth’s hands curled over my knees, forcing my legs open.

            “Show you how much I missed you? Is that what you want, Llane?”

            I met his eyes, felt desire spike. All I could do was nod.

            He smirked before lying down on his stomach, arms curling around my outer thighs to hold them open. He dragged me down the bed, lifting my hips up. His hot breath washed over my sensitized core, making me fist my hands in the sheets.

            A chuckle. An agonizingly gentle brushing of the end of his nose along my inner thigh. Just when I thought he was going to tease me forever, his mouth settled over my core. I arched up from the bed when his tongue swept along my slit, circling around my clit, flicking against it in rapid rhythm.

            He kept up the exquisite torture, his tongue working magic against the most sensitive parts of me. I tried to move my hips, to get more friction, more sensation, but he held me in a tight grip. My fingers slid into his hair, pulled him closer, urged him to give me more, to please never stop.

            The vibration of his chuckle raced through me. “Oh fuck,” I swore, feeling my entire body coiling tighter and tighter. “Please! Please!”

            I dangled off the edge of a great precipice. My nerves thrummed. My body ached. I was so close.

            Seth pulled away, hovering over me with a smirk on his lips. “I’m not finished yet, baby girl.”

            He slid off the end of the bed, grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me along. My shirt slipped up, exposing my stomach and breasts. I felt his eyes on me, wished they had a physical weight, needing to feel his hands against my skin.

            A belt coming undone. The metallic sound of a zipper. Fabric hitting the floor.

            I lifted my head, saw him standing there, his hard cock in his hand. “Please,” I whimpered. “I’m so close, Seth. Please… please, Colby.”

            Time stood still. He took his time pressing into me. My body stretched around him, an ache that made me want to cry. I writhed, unable to resist the need to be touched. My fingers stroked and squeezed my breasts, pinching and tugging at my nipples.

            Eyes closed, I waited for him to move. To do something.

            Without warning, he hooked my legs over his arms, lifting my hips up off the bed, and began pounding his cock into me. Every stroke seemed to hit the perfect spot. Forceful thrusts drove me closer and closer to that edge that I needed so desperately.

            His fingers dug into my hips. One hand slipped around, pressed a thumb against my clit, rubbed in quick circles.

            I whimpered, groaned, moaned. Every muscle tightened. Something coiled inside me. My orgasm burst through me, waves of euphoria spilling into my limbs. A ringing began in my ears. Stars burst in my vision.

            Seth growled as my body tightened around him. He didn’t stop his frantic pounding, chasing his own release. Every thrust sent a shockwave through me, aftershocks prolonging the orgasmic feeling still seeping through my veins.

            At last he came, his hips pressed tight against me, my name on his lips. A faint sheen of sweat settled on his chest. Desire raised a sluggish head, spend a few moments admiring the Adonis standing nearby.

            He looked down at me, panting softly, eyes nearly black with a mix of a thousand emotions. “That’s how much I missed you, Llane.”


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

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            The wind nearly blew me over as I walked out of the back door of Black and Brave. The students had already gone to get some rest. Every single one of them had done a fantastic job. Sarah had made progress in getting over some of her fear, although it was going to take a while before she was truly what I would call _fearless_ in the ring.

            Seth had given me the keys to his CUV so I could go back to the house. He’d decided to go check in on the place he owned were a number of the male student stayed when they were training at the school. I was tired anyway, so it didn’t bother me too much.

            I engaged the GPS with the address of the house, cursing under my breath that I still hadn’t mastered the route between Moline and Davenport. Halfway there, large flakes of snow started falling. They hit the ground and melted into the asphalt, glowing bright in the headlights before they disappeared. If the temperature dropped low enough, it would start to stick. God only knew how long it was going last.

            By the time I pulled into the garage, the grass was dusted with white. I dug my phone out of my bag. Waited for the line to connect.

            “Hey, babe,” Seth said on the other end.

            I tucked the phone between cheek and shoulder. “Hey. You might want to head back soon. It’s starting to snow.”

            He chuckled. “This isn’t snow, Llane. It’s powder.”

            “Well, powder can still be dangerous.”

            The sound of his voice muffled, as if he’d put his hand over the phone. When he came back, there was laughter in the background. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll come home.”

            I made a face as I turned on the coffee maker, needing something warm to drink. “I just don’t want you to get hurt trying to drive back after the roads freeze over.”

            “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

            “Don’t rush!”

 

            I changed into a pair of flannel pants and a tank beneath an oversized sweater. Fleece socks kept my feet warm on the cold wood floors. I curled up on the sofa with a cup of coffee, flipping through channels with Prince and Kevin curled up on each side. Every now and then, I’d check my phone, starting to worry when ten minutes became fifteen and then twenty.

            When the garage door engaged nearly forty-five minutes after we talked, I was on edge with anxiety. Seth came in the side door, nose a little red from the cold and bundled in a hoodie and a jacket. He toed off his shoes by the door and grinned at me as he tossed a set of keys and his wallet on the counter.

            “Are you okay?” I asked breathlessly. Kevin stirred when I stood up but sank back down into his nap when he realized nothing exciting was happening.

            He smiled, tugged me into his arms. I craned my neck to look up at him. “Maybe the roads were worse than I thought.”

            I tried not to smirk. “Ah.”

            He rolled his eyes. His lips brushed my forehead. “You were right. I wouldn’t have wanted to drive in this after it freezes tonight.”

            Stunned. Uncertain that I’d heard properly. I blinked.

            Seth led me by the hand toward the sofa. He sat down just where it curved into its L shape and tugged me down beside him. I curled against him, my head resting on his shoulder as he enveloped me in warmth.

            “Besides,” he said with quiet tenderness, “Mom takes care of the bunkhouse anyway. I just wanted to see what kind of stuff those guys were doing.”

            I smiled as I threaded our fingers together. His lips brushed the top of my head. “You’d like to be here more often, wouldn’t you?”

            “Yeah. It’s hard enough just keeping up with all the stuff going on with my family when I’m on the road. If it wasn’t for Marek and the rest of them, I don’t think I could run the school.”

            Words rushed through my brain, cobbled themselves together into sentences. A wish turned to hope to desire in the depths of my heart.

            Quiet settled between us. I stayed there, my head on his shoulder, his arm curled around me, even after I felt the light rumbling of a snore go through his chest. A smile played on my lips.

            “It wouldn’t be so bad living in Iowa,” I whispered into the silence. Kevin rested his chin on my feet, almost agreeing with me.

 

            “So you two’ve figured your stuff out?” Dean asked as we warmed up in gorilla. Mixed Match Challenge went life on Facebook in just a few minutes, and our match was up first.

            “Some of it,” I replied. “He’s trying. That’s all I can ask.”

            A ghost of a smile settled on Dean’s lips. He glanced down at the tattoo on his left ring finger. It was a permanent reminder of his wedding band, even when it wasn’t physically there. “Sometimes that’s all you can do, dollface.”

            I rose up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Dean.”

            He blushed and put his arm around my neck. “Be bored mad.”

           

            Roman stood just behind me, his radiant warmth spreading throughout my entire body. Seth was on my left, Dean on my right. Charlie stared into a camera just a few feet away, a microphone held in her hand.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my guests at this time, The Shield.”

            She turned toward us, the camera following, shifting to fit all four of us into the shot. We gave our best unconcerned and aloof expressions. Seth and Dean had the Raw Tag Team titles around their waists. The Intercontinental title rested over Seth’s shoulder. Roman hoisted the Universal Championship into view.

            “You guys have dominated the Raw roster for weeks now. You three collectively,” she said, gesturing to the guys, “have every championship in the men’s division. Do you feel like you’ve become targets?”

            “You’re always a target when you’ve got gold, Charles,” Roman replied smoothly. “It means you’re the best and everyone wants to prove that they’re better than you.”

            “We’ve put in blood and sweat and blood and tears to get these titles. And anyone who wants to step up can come take their ass-whippin’,” Dean said ferociously.

            “While the three of you have been taking over the men’s division, Llane, you’ve been burning through the women. How does it feel to be the number one contender for the Raw Women’s Championship?”

            The truth was that it felt euphoric. It was something I never thought I would see this early in my career, but I knew that wasn’t something I could say. So instead I shrugged, tried to look more confident than I felt.

            “I earned it, Charlie. I beat some of the most talented women in this business, and I think that’s a pretty good indicator of what I can do.” I glanced at Dean. “With these three at my back, there’s nothing I can’t do.”

            “Oh really?” A voice came from just behind Charlie.

            The camera backed up, made room for a new arrival. Ronda. She was in her usual backstage gear—boots, leggings, her own tee-shirt, and Piper’s jacket. The Women’s title was draped over her shoulder.

            “You’ve spent more time in the ring with Dean Ambrose than by yourself,” Ronda spat. “There are half a dozen women on the Raw roster better than you.”

            “And I beat every one that stepped in front of me,” I retorted, stepping away from the others. My heart raced in my chest. I knew her reputation—both from MMA and from the people she’d faced in the WWE ring. “The only one I haven’t beat is you, and that’s just because you’ve been too scared to step into the ring with me.”

            The bravado in my words surprised even me. I fought the urge to swallow, to look nervous.

            Ronda moved closer, going toe to toe with me. “The only thing I’m scared of, little girl, is how I’m going to explain ripping your arms out of their sockets.”

            I gave her a smirk of my own, cracking my knuckles like Dean did during promos. “Just remember, _Ronda_ … when you get in the ring with me, you get in the ring with a big dog, with a lunatic, and someone who will burn everything you love to ashes. You might be the _baddest_ woman on the planet, but I’m the most fearless.”

            A second ticked by. I grinned. “Believe that.”


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

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            Noise filled the arena. It rose to a crescendo, fell into a low hum, rocketed upward again. Roman and I sat at the commentary table, headsets on as we watched Seth and Dean defending their Tag Team titles against The Revival. It was a beautiful sight to watch the two of them working like a fluid machine in the ring. I loved both of them more and more every time I saw them in action.

            “I’m impressed that Rollins is still performing at this level after having defended his Intercontinental Championship already tonight,” Corey said as Seth landed a slingblade on Dawson. “His body has got to be wearing down.”

            “This is what Rollins lives for, Graves. Competition, showing he’s one of the best.” Renee was my favorite on commentary, she never took any of Corey’s bullshit. “This is the payoff from all those hours in the gym. If anybody can handle this kind of grueling pace, it’s Seth Rollins.”

            I grinned, giving Renee a playful little jab with my elbow where no one would see. She never failed to support The Shield when they were in the ring.

            “If Ambrose and Rollins win tonight, three of the four titles currently held by members of The Shield will have been successfully defended,” Michael Cole interjected. “Roman Reigns, you will face Kevin Owens for the Universal Championship. And Llane, you will take on Ronda Rousey for the Raw Women’s Championship. How are you guys feeling going into your matches?”

            “Owens is a great competitor, and he always gives a hell of a match.” Roman paused, watching his brothers as they tagged in and out of the ring in a dance-like sequence. “But he doesn’t have the drive to take _my_ Universal Championship.”

            Before I could answer, there was an explosion of activity in the ring. Dean and Dawson had beaten each other into a pulp. They crawled toward their respective corners, both their partners reaching as far over the ropes as they could without letting go of the tag rope. The hot tag landed the same time on both teams. Dash and Seth burst out of their corners, racing at one another across the ring.

            Dash hit Seth square in the chest with a massive clothesline that planted him flat on his back. He bounced up, rolled to his hands and knees. When Dash came back toward him, Seth checked him by grabbing his ankles. He fell forward onto the mat, giving Seth enough time to get to his feet. I saw the look in his eyes.

            I grinned.

            “Looks like Rollins is getting fired up!” Renee leaned forward, watched eagerly.

            My heart burned in my chest. It was an absolutely beautiful sight to see him work himself up into a frenzy of motion.

            Corey opened his mouth to say something sarcastic. I smacked him on the arm. “Shut the hell up, Graves!”

            Roman and Renee laughed. _Here it comes_ , I thought. The move that Seth had perfected. He grabbed Dash by the wrist, spun him out, followed him with a knee. It was the ripcord knee that hadn’t failed him yet.

            Cover. Dean kept Dawson busy until the bell rang.

            I smirked, looked over at Corey Graves. Before I took my headset off, I pointed to the ring. “That’s what The Shield does, Graves. We _win_. And tonight, we _all_ will.”

 

            Nervousness burned across my skin. I’d just left hair and makeup. My title match with Ronda was up next, right after Becky’s defense of the Smackdown title. It didn’t help my anxiety that we were booked to follow it. Everyone knew that Becky gave fantastic matches whenever she was in the ring, and I knew it was going to be hard to actually get anywhere close to beating it.

            I met up with Seth and Dean in gorilla. They were both wearing Lunatic Llane merch, which made me grin. “We’re going out to your music, dollface. It’s your turn to shine.”

            The trepidation I felt about the upcoming match started to fade away. It was going to be painful, and there was a decent chance that I was going to get hurt, but if I came through it, I’d be the Raw Women’s Champion. Just thinking about getting injured made me rub my shoulder in anticipation.

            Seth pulled me into his arms, dropped a kiss on top of my head. “You do everything you always do, Llane. Be as safe as you can be. If you get hurt, we deal with it.”

           

            A dull ache ran through my right side. It started at the back of my shoulder and radiated down across my ribs. Ronda didn’t pull anything from her throws. Fifteen minutes into the match she’d tossed me around like a ragdoll—one judo throw after another, a whip into the turnbuckle. There was no doubt about it… she dominated.

            For the first time in my life, I questioned my choice of career. There was so much pain. And I just wanted it all to stop.

            I caught sight of Seth and Dean at the apron. They watched me with worried expressions and bright eyes. Seth was leaning on his elbows, covering his mouth with both hands. Dean looked as if he wanted to roll into the ring to drag me out.

            A spike of adrenaline. Anger at myself for how easily I had been willing to give up. I forced myself to my feet. Pounding in my ears. Dizziness.

            I stood up, squared my shoulders, leaned against the turnbuckle to catch my breath. My thoughts went to the two men standing ringside, to the one who was backstage watching this as he waited for his own turn in the ring. I wanted desperately to make them proud.

            I stretched my neck side to side, feeling it pop along my spine. A thousand possibilities rushed through my mind. The end was set, but the how was something else entirely.

            I made a fist, held it up in front of me. With a smirk, I used my other hand to mimic cocking it. I shot out of the corner, threw everything I had behind a Superman punch. Pain radiated through my knuckles as it landed, but it was just a glancing shot along her jaw. I whipped into the opposite corner, turned and threw out my arms, roaring toward the ceiling. Ronda turned, and I took off. My feet left the floor, and I barreled my shoulder into her midsection.

            Both of us hit the mat hard. It dazed me, sending a jarring ache up my shoulder again.

            She stirred, not quite taken out yet.

            I rolled to my feet, winded and aching. It hurt to breathe. Ronda stood up and squared off across from me. Her face was set in her trademark angry scowl. Both hands were balled up in front of her face. I was so exhausted. I didn’t know how I was going to finish this.

            She came at me, hooked my arm and gave me another throw. I landed hard on my back, felt my breath fly out of me in a rush. Ronda had my arm stretched out, prepping for the armbar. I knew the second she locked it in, there was nothing I could do. I would lose, regardless of what was supposed to happen.

            Before she could step over, I rolled toward her until I barreled into her legs. It was enough to knock her off balance and get her to release my arm. She bounced against the ropes. I struggled to my feet, shaking the pins and needles out of my right arm.

            Ronda ran at me. I bent to the side, slipped an arm beneath her to scoop her onto my shoulders. Pain nearly caused me to drop her.

            Hook an arm around the back of her neck. Legs out, fall back.

            Samoan drop.

            I backed up, grabbed both legs and pulled as tight as I could until all our combined weight was on her shoulders. _One… two… three…_

            The pop that spread through the arena was deafening. But it faded away when Seth snatched me up into his arms and swung me around.

            When he set me on my feet, Dean was standing there with the title held out, a proud grin on his face.


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

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            The trainer bound a bag of ice around my shoulder after pronouncing that nothing had been dislocated or severely damaged. Still, he wanted me to see the doctor before I competed the again just to be completely sure.

            I glanced at the title that was draped over the end of the trainer’s table. The reality of it hadn’t set in yet. Ronda’s plates were still on it.

            Exhaustion bled in to every cell of my body. The night had been too exciting, too emotionally draining for me to keep going. I wanted the night to be over. I wanted my hotel room, a shower, a hot meal, a bed that just enveloped me until I was smothered in softness.

            I wanted Seth. And I wanted quiet.

            A knock on the door. Creaking hinges. The grin spreading on Dean’s face when he saw me.

            “How you feelin’, dollface?” He stopped just in front of me, eyes sweeping over the icepack bound to my shoulder with an ACE bandage.

            I grinned right back. “It hasn’t settled in yet.”

            Dean leaned over and kissed my forehead. “It will. Probably when they get your plates on the side.” He looked me over again. “I’m proud of you. We all are.”

            “Thanks, Dean.” I let my head rest against his chest just so I could get a breath. He put an arm around me, careful to avoid my injured shoulder. His energy surrounded me in a comforting haze that gave me permission to just be.

            My heart swelled with love and contentment. He was my best friend, the brother of my heart, and the first member of the family I’d chosen for myself on the road. Dean welcomed me with open arms. He loved me unconditionally.

            “Got a date with the doc tomorrow?”

            “Yeah,” I grunted. “Trainer doesn’t think anything is really wrong, but better safe than sorry.”

            “Rollins is going to lose his shit, you know that, right?”

            “If he does, I can go right back to riding with Bayley and Finn. I’m not listening to him go nuts like that again.”

            The door opened again. Dean moved out of the way as Seth walked in. He’d changed out of his gear into jeans and a Blackcraft Cult tee. His hair was still wet from his shower, tied back out of the way. For an instant, fear and frustration blurred into his features. A breath later, it was gone.

            “Hey, Champ,” he said warmly. He crossed the room with a grin on his face. When his fingers settled on the back of my head and his lips pressed to my forehead, everything in the world felt right.

            “Hey.” I returned his smile, electricity arcing over my skin. “How’s Ro’s match going?”

            Seth rolled his eyes. “Owens got knocked out a few minutes ago. We’ve got all the belts now, baby.”

            My smile got bigger, brighter. Pride flowed through my veins. God, I loved them all so much. I loved being one of them. And I was incredibly grateful for everything they’d given me in the months since I’d joined the Hounds.

            “C’mon, Champ,” Dean said as he and Seth moved to each side of me. “Let’s get you to the hotel. You need a shower, some food, and some sleep.”

            “That sounds fucking fantastic.”

 

            “Seth?”

            I stared at the taps and the bottles of shampoo and body wash perched on the edge of the tub. My shoulder was still sore enough that I couldn’t lift it over my head without gasping in pain. How the hell was I going to get through a shower on my own?

            He poked his head around the bathroom door. “Yeah?”

            There wasn’t much embarrassment at standing in the empty shower naked. We’d long ago gotten used to seeing each other without clothes… although it was often way sexier than it was just then. I sighed.

            “I can’t do this myself.”

            Seth gave a quick nod and smiled softly. “Let’s try a bath then.”

            He watched carefully as I stepped out of the tub. He turned the water on, testing it every now and then to be sure it wasn’t too hot. When he was at last satisfied, he dropped the stopper and let the water fill up. Steam lifted from the surface, wafting around the bubbles that formed when he squeezed some body wash into the water.

            The water sloshed around me as I sank into the bubbles. Every muscle in my body started to unwind. Relaxation settled into my bones. I leaned back against the tub and groaned.

            “Feel better?”

            “Uh huh,” I mumbled.

            Seth chuckled and helped me whenever I asked for it. He talked while I luxuriated in the water. The sound of his voice was soothing. It was the sound of happiness. Of peace. It kept up as his fingers worked through my hair, massaging in shampoo, rinsing, repeating with conditioner.

            It was an interesting few minutes as he helped me dry off and get dressed. There was no avoiding the tension that crackled in the air. Part of me wanted to act on it, but it was quickly overruled by the faint ache that still spread through my body.

            “Time for bed, Champ,” Seth said playfully. He turned back the covers on the bed, leading me to the side where he normally slept. I raised a brow. “Trust me. You want to be on this side, so I don’t hit your arm in the middle of the night.”

            Once I was tucked in, I grinned at him. “You’ve handled this really well.”

            His gaze flicked quickly toward my shoulder. His dark eyes clouded with worry. “I’m trying, Llane.”

            I reached out my good arm, wiggled my fingers at him to get him closer. He climbed up in the bed next to me and stretched out. His arm twitched like he wanted to put it around me. Instead, he entwined our fingers together in the space between us.

            “You haven’t freaked out or tried to _architect_ the situation,” I said with a giggle. “I’d call that progress.”

            “So architect is a verb now?” His brows lifted in a hilarious sort of way.

            “Absolutely.”

            He nodded, leaned over and kissed the side of my head. “I’m glad you’re okay. Mostly.”

            “You’re mostly glad, or I’m mostly okay?”

            “You know what I meant, Black.”

            “I dunno. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with you, Rollins.”

            He chuckled and squeezed my hand. “I’m so proud of you, Llane. Seriously. You’ve done so much so fast and it’s amazing.”

            “It’s you guys. Knowing I’ve got the three of you in my corner… I feel invincible.”

            “Funny,” he said softly. “We feel the same way about you.”

            Warmth. Electricity. Unbridled energy. It coalesced in my body and sank into my soul. It was the three of them, the knowledge that they loved me, that they were going to always have my back.

            We were solid. We were one.

            I let my head fall against his shoulder. “So… are you going to architect some food, or what, Lopez?”


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

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            “Holy hell,” Dean said as he leaned back in the chair at Seth’s dinner table. He pushed his plate out of reach and looked as if he were stifling a belch.

            “Don’t you dare,” Renee reprimanded from his side, slapping him in the forearm.

            Seth chuckled as I started clearing up plates. “I told you, man. She’s a food god.”

            A blush ran over my cheeks as I started scraping the last leavings into the garbage. There wasn’t much to do, honestly. The four of them had practically licked their plates clean. I rinsed the dishes off quickly in the sink and started stacking them in the dishwasher. From the other room, I heard them talking and laughing.

            Renee popped into the kitchen, smiling her sideways smile. “Want some help?”

            I shrugged. “If you want. There’s not much to do. Those two devoured everything.”

            She chuckled and started packing leftovers away as I handed over containers. We worked together in silence for a few moments, the only sound the scraping of utensils on pots and pans.

            “How are you liking Iowa?”

            The question was one that I asked myself sometimes. I’d been on the main roster for almost six months. Every moment of it was a dream. As exhausting as it could be, I loved the travel. The fans were amazing, passionate and energetic. I saw parts of the country and the world that I never expected to see as a foster kid in rural North Carolina. And I’d met The Shield. I’d found Dean, who was easily my other half. Roman had become my calm in the storm.

            Seth… he was my drive, my biggest fan and most vocal supporter. He’d given me permission to be who I was, to enjoy the little things, to share everything I knew with people who were thirsty to learn. He kept me company on the road. He made me laugh. Sometimes he made me cry or made me so mad that I wanted to punch him in the throat.

            But they were all three mine in some way or another. I couldn’t imagine my life without them.

            I looked at Renee, smiled at her confidently. “It’s colder than I’m used to.” I chuckled, then shrugged. “It’s worth it though.”

            She leaned on the countertop. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Seth this… domestic.”

            “I’ve never been Suzie Homemaker myself.” I pushed away the thoughts of growing up not knowing if I was even going to have a roof over my head.

            As if she sensed something, Renee quickly switched topics. “How’d your family take the news of the move?”

            My smile was bittersweet. “Mom and Dad… they were supportive, but worried—y’know? The only people I really know out here are Seth, his family, and Marek. My parents were just afraid I’d be unhappy out here without anyone else that I knew. My brothers… well, I couldn’t leave them in the same room with Seth when I told them.”

            “Your brothers must be beasts then.”

            I shook my head. “God, no. They’re basically bunny rabbits. But they get a little…”

            “Protective?”

            “Overbearingly Neanderthal-ish.”

           

            “Are you happy, dollface?” Dean asked as we stood on the back patio. It was beyond freezing outside, but Dean was one of those people who liked the cold. He stood there, hands in his pockets, in a hoodie. I was tucked up against his side in one of Seth’s sweatshirts and a thick blanket.

            “Yeah,” I replied, watching my breath fog up in the air in front of me. “I’ve really had a good time tonight.”

            “Me, too, but you know that’s not what I mean.”

            I looked up at Dean, surprised by the look of open concern on his face. He tucked an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in closer. “Seth and I are good.”

            “Good isn’t happy, Llane.” His voice was deeper, more authoritative. I tried to avoid laughing at the thought that he sounded like Roman.

            Braving the cold, I wrapped my arms around his waist and gave him a firm hug. “I am happy, Dean. Honestly.”

            He gave a noise that sounded suspiciously like a grunt. A second later he looked down at me, his blue eyes widening as if he’d just noticed that I was there. “Get your ass inside! You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

            I laughed aloud as he shooed me inside with flapping arms, making him look like some old biddy. The heat hit me like a furnace blast when I made my way through the kitchen and into the living room. Seth and Renee were sitting on the sofa, one at each end and a dog in each lap, talking in quiet tones.

            “That man is absolutely…”

            “Insane.” The two of them said together.

            “Yes!” I grinned at how they clearly understood life with Dean Ambrose. “Let’s just ship him to Alaska and let him live on a glacier.” 

            “It’d be a vacation for his crazy ass,” Seth said as he pulled me down beside him. Prince wriggled out of his hold and burrowed beneath the blanket to sit close against my hip. Seth glared at his dog, a pouting expression on his face. “Traitor.”

            I scratched Prince behind the ears. “He just has good taste.”

            We talked about work as we waited for the cold to drive Dean back inside. Renee was excited about a trip overseas. Her energy was nearly as infectious as her husband’s as she talked about all the sightseeing and shopping we could do when we got there.

            After nearly half an hour, the back door opened and closed again. There were faint sounds of sniffling, the obnoxiously loud blowing of a nose.

            Renee made a face and nearly covered her ears. “It’s so disgusting when he does that.”

            In return, I made a face and jerked my head toward Seth. I stuck my tongue out the corner of my mouth and made a soft _pfft_ sort of noise.

            “Oh God, I know! I don’t know how you make it in the car with the three of them.”

            Dean appeared around the corner having lost his jacket and shoes. He plopped down beside his wife and pulled her feet into his lap. “She farts worse than the rest of us.”

            “I do _not!_ ” I exclaimed, indignant. My fingers snatched up a pillow and threw it at his head. Unfortunately, he caught it without much effort. “And I wasn’t even talking about you, Ambrose. I was talking about Seth.”

            A comically shocked look appeared on Seth’s face. “I’ll have you know…”

            “That you fart like a water buffalo,” Dean finished, face turning red as he tried to hold back laughter.

            “Well, your feet stink.” He sounded petulant, like a two-year-old.

            Renee nodded, conceding the point. “They kinda do, babe.”

            I watched Dean open his mouth, preparing some retort to his wife. He stopped himself, apparently having learned the first rule of marriage pretty quickly. _Happy wife… happy life_. Unfortunately, that meant he turned his ire on me.

            “You… ah hell, you’re pretty cool, dollface.”

            A smug smile. Giggling as I pretended to blow a kiss at Dean. Renee rolled her eyes. Seth made a face.

            “Yeah, yeah, Llane’s the best one out of all of us.” Seth slid his arm around me, tugged me in close. Between the heat of his body and the warmth radiating from Prince, I was nice and toasty. The food had settled in my stomach. I was ready to go to sleep.

            “She’s also a lightweight,” Dean chuckled. “Get our girl to bed, Seth. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

            The last thing I remembered was Dean giving me a brotherly kiss on the forehead just before Seth carried me down the hallway to our bedroom.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

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            Sammy watched my reflection in the mirror and smiled faintly. “You’re going to be fine, Llane. Honestly.”

            I blew out a long breath, watched while she ran a brush through my hair. The scent of burning hair spray rose from the curling iron heating up on the vanity. It made me nauseated. But maybe that was the nerves that were turning my entire body inside out.

            “I’ve never done an event like this before. Ever.” I glanced over my shoulder at the racks of clothes Sammy had brought in. Cocktail dresses. Evening gowns. Red carpet ready outfits that looked like they cost more than my entire wardrobe. “Hell, I didn’t even go to my high school prom.”

            Sammy stopped, put the brush down. “You need something to calm your nerves. I’ll be right back.”

            She disappeared out the door of my hotel room, looking more harried than I’d ever seen her. Once she was out of the room, I hopped out of the makeup chair and went back to the racks of clothes, running my fingers along them. Silks, satins, tulle, chiffon, sequence, rhinestones, every dress was a little different, a little more beautiful than the one before it.

            In a few hours, the WWE held their annual charity event. Superstars from across all three brands came together to celebrate the money raised for charities like Connor’s Cure and their other partners. Apparently, there was a big dinner, dancing, and a raffle that raised money for a charity chosen by the current main-brand champions.

            That meant Roman and I had spent a long time talking over charity options that meant something to us. Most of the time had been spent trying to convince Roman to go with his first choice, rather than mine. But he was horribly stubborn and wouldn’t hear of it.

            I stopped, pulled a dress from the rack. It was a cool silk, a one-shoulder gown that began black and faded to crimson at the bottom. Rhinestones in a sunburst pattern adorned the right shoulder and the left side of the bodice. My heart dropped out of my toes. It was so beautiful. So perfect.

            The door opened. Sammy slipped inside with a paper cup that was steaming from the top. She smiled as she crossed the room toward me. “Coffee always helped everything. Just the way you like it.”

            Carefully, I slid the dress back onto the rack and took the coffee from her. She glanced at the gown and smirked. “I was hoping you’d like that one. Especially after what the rest of them picked out.”

            I lifted a brow, but Sammy waved her hand, forestalling any conversation. She shooed me back to the makeup chair so she could finish.

 

            _I hate heels_ , I thought as I walked to the elevator. They were taking photos in a room on the club floor, and I was running behind. It had taken Sammy longer than she expected to twist my hair up into the elaborate braided twist that she picked. The red streaks in my hair mixed in with the dark black strands, matching my dress almost perfectly. My makeup was understated, a highlighting of my hazel eyes and the shape of my cheekbones.

            For the first time in my life, I actually felt beautiful.

            The elevator doors dinged open. Before I could take a step forward, I heard the gasps and low whistles from the car. Finn, Becky, and Dolph were already on their way up and made room for me to joint hem.

            “Ya look gorgeous, love,” Finn said with that broad grin of his. “Really.”

            I blushed. Dolph nodded. “You clean up nice, Black.”

            I smacked him in the chest with my clutch purse. He feigned pain, smiling charismatically.

            Becky looked gorgeous in a deep emerald gown, her fiery red hair curled and cascading down her back. She looked me over as admiringly as I took in her outfit. She held out her hand and I took it. “That’s it, fellas,” she said seriously. “Found my date for the evenin’.”

            “Okay then, but you’re the one breaking the news to Seth.”

            “Oh, him,” Becky said flippantly. “He can stuff it.”

            We rode together in companionable silence. Becky kept tight hold of my hand in a comforting way. She knew how much tonight terrified me. It was easy to be the champ in the ring. It was everything outside of it that was uncomfortable.

            When we reached the club floor, the hallway was full of superstars in various states of touchups. AJ had popped a button on his jacket, someone had stepped on the end of Nia’s gown. A stressed looking woman with a clipboard ushered us off the elevator and down the hall toward the photographer’s room.

            “You wait here,” she said, stopping me from walking with the rest of them. “I’m supposed to hold you until the others get here.”

            I nodded, waved to Becky as she was directed into the room. The woman looked me over, an approving look in her eyes. “Stephanie wants you in this room until Roman, Seth, and Dean are already in the room for photos. Apparently, something about a reaction shot.”

            She led me into an adjacent room with a series of low sofas and overstuffed chairs. I sat down, took a glass of wine that was offered, and tried to calm my breathing.

 

            The woman came back twenty minutes later, looking a little the worse for wear. She led me to the photographer’s room. Before we went in, she turned to give me some final instructions. “The three of them are already in there taking pictures. There’s a second photographer who is going to be taking your picture when you walk into the room. The main photographer has been instructed to take photos of the guys when they see you the first time.”

            That made my heart flutter in my chest. I could only imagine what strange faces they would make when they first caught sight of me in this outfit.

            The door opened. I was ushered inside, heard the faint clicking of a camera shutter as a photographer walked backward in front of me. There were backdrops and lights everywhere. And across the room was The Shield.

            They were dressed in black suits that were tailored perfectly for them. It accentuated their broad shoulders and narrow waists. A moment passed before I noticed the little pops of color in all the black. Each of them wore a crimson red tie and had red pocket squares in their jackets. My heart skipped a beat. They’d chosen my colors for tonight.

            Dean was the first one to realize I’d entered the room. His blue eyes went wide, a lopsided grin appearing on his face. He put one hand over his heart while he reached over with the other to tap Roman on the arm. His gaze landed on me with the radiant heat that always followed him. Roman smiled his beautiful smile as he looked me over, faint color rising on his cheeks. For a second, I thought his eyes were shining with tears.

            Together, the two of them dropped their hands on Seth’s shoulders, turned him toward where I stood. His entire visage changed when our eyes met. A smile slowly spread over his face. His dark eyes went wide. For a moment, I thought he was going to fall over. It seemed it was only Roman and Dean who were keeping him upright.

            Seth’s hand came up, thumb running below his eyes. He was crying.

            I blushed, felt heat and electricity and energy rush through my whole body. I knew I was smiling like a fool, but I didn’t care. The three of them made me feel… breathtaking.

            Dean crossed the room and took me in his arms, careful not to mess up my hair or makeup. “You look… holy fucking shit… dollface…”

            I giggled. “You look good, too, Dean.”

            Roman pushed him aside. He made a little turning motion with his other hand. I turned in a slow circle, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I looked back at him. His big hands settled on each side of my face. “You look absolutely beautiful, babygirl.”

            Seth come over last, stopping just an arm’s length away. “Wow…”


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

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            Walking in to the ballroom was surreal. It was like that first night on the main roster all over again. There was a low hum of noise in the room. Murmured conversations. Clinking glasses. Soft music. The decibel level was much lower, but the anxiety was just as high.

            Seth stood on my right, holding my hand. It had taken him a few moments to get his voice back. When he finally did, he told me I was beautiful at least a dozen times. Each time he said it, fire licked the base of my spine.

            At my other side, Dean had my hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. He had a cocky smile on his face as we made our way through the crowd of people milling about. I kept thinking about how fun it would have been to go to my high school prom with a guy like Dean.

            Roman walked behind the three of us, his body between me and the rest of the world who might follow us. He kept a hand at the small of my back as we walked.

            We had been placed at a table near the stage. There were seats for seven, our names printed in dark ink on crisp white cards. Becky and AJ had been settled at our table as well. I grinned, noticing that I’d been placed between Becky and Dean.

            Seth pouted.

            “Don’t look at me like that,” I said, giggling. “I didn’t set the table.”

            He gave a dramatic sigh and brought my hand up to his mouth. The warmth of his lips pressed against my skin, sending sparks of electricity along my limbs. His dark eyes met mine, and my mind went to a thousand ways the night could end. I blushed.

            “It could be worse. You could be at an entirely different table,” he whispered. His fingers lingered on mine for a moment longer. “I’m going to get a drink. What would you like, my beauty?”

            He disappeared into the thickening crowd a few seconds later. I turned toward the table, surprised to see AJ holding out my chair.

            “Rollins has one thing right. You look amazing, Llane.” It sounded remarkably charming in his Southern drawl.

            I grinned back at him. “Thanks, AJ. You look pretty good yourself.”

            He grinned and waved his hand. “Aww, shucks, ma’am.” He chuckled, knowing I thought it was adorable and entertaining when he went what we called _full Georgia_.

            Once AJ pushed my chair in, the others fell in to place around me. Becky sank into the chair to my right, mumbling in Irish beneath her breath. I gave her a quizzical look.

            “I fucking _hate_ heels,” she muttered, looking around. “Don’t they have waiters in this place?”

            Dean stood up, buttoning his jacket as he did. “What can I get for you, Ms. Lynch?”

            Becky asked for a red wine, AJ for a Jack and Coke. Dean gave a little bow and melted away into the crowd.

            “How’d you take it, Reigns?” Becky said, looking over the table at Roman. “When you saw ya’ girl here?”

            The blush ran over his face again. I tried to hide my grin of satisfaction as Roman coughed to clear his throat. I watched his nearly black eyes flick to the seats Seth and Dean had vacated. “Ambrose nearly had a heart attack. Rollins couldn’t speak. I thought… I think she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—right after my wife.”

            I met Roman’s gaze and tried desperately not to cry. “Ro…”

            He smiled back at me, his eyes twinkling. “It’s true, _itiiti_.”

            My heart skipped a beat. I blushed, grinning softly. Just then, Dean and Seth returned to the table bearing alcohol. The two of them had the same drink as AJ. Becky got her wine, so did I. I’d need all the liquid courage I could get.

 

            “Thanks to your hard work, your time, your dedication, and your visits, we have brought joy into the lives of sick children across the country. We’ve raised millions of dollars and granted a total of fifty-eight wishes,” Triple H said from the podium. Pictures of our visits to children’s hospitals flashed across the screen behind him. The crowd clapped.

            Stephanie moved beside him, looking elegant in a long black dress. “At this time, please welcome our Raw Women’s Champion, Llane Black, and the Universal Champion, Roman Reigns.”

            Roman stood as the crowd clapped feverishly. He buttoned his jacket before moving around the table to help me to my feet. He tucked my hand in the crook of his arm and lead me smoothly up the stairs to the stage. My heart pounded in my chest. The room tilted. I was certain my face was bright red.

            “Thank you,” Roman said with his bright charm and deep voice. “Llane and I are honored to have had the choice of charities for tonight’s raffle. It took a while for us to finally come to a decision, mostly because she is incredibly stubborn.”

            Laughter rippled through the room. Roman grinned down at me indulgently.

            Deep breath.

            “The charity we’ve chosen is one that is incredibly personal to me. As a child, I grew up without my parents in a series of foster homes. It took a while, but I finally found a family who welcomed me as if I were their own daughter. Without them, I wouldn’t be standing before you today.” I looked into the crowd, caught Dean’s eye. He smiled reassuringly, pressed his fist over his heart in solidarity. “When Roman wouldn’t relent, I agreed that our chosen charity would be the Children’s Home Society of North Carolina.”

            “The organization works to provide support and resources to families as they serve as foster children of all ages. Families receive psychological and emotional support, parenting strategies, and support groups for newly fostered children.” Roman spoke the words that we’d talked about on the way down to the ballroom.

“There are currently more than 11,000 children in foster care in the state of North Carolina alone,” I said, dabbing beneath my eyes with my fingertips. Roman slipped his arm around my waist in support. “Every dollar helps to provide family finding services, legal counsel to foster parents navigating adoption, and support groups for both foster children and their foster families. Please… whatever you can give… either in donation or in tickets for the raffle tonight… every penny of it will go directly to the Children’s Home Society to take care of these kids who just need a safe home.”

Dean stood up, put his fingers in the corners of his mouth, whistled. Seth got up as well, soon joined by a clapping Becky and AJ. I could see my fiery friend had tears in her eyes. Triple H drew me into a hug, whispered his pride in my strength into my ear. Stephanie hugged me next, smiling faintly.

“You heard the champ!” Triple H growled into the microphone.

All around the room, people stood, milling about as they moved toward the donation tables. Roman held my hand as we came back down the stage steps. My fingers trembled against his.

“You did great, Llane.”

I couldn’t speak. Alcohol sloshed in my stomach. I felt like I was going to throw up. Panic gripped my limbs.

Eyes searching the crowd. Breath coming in painful gasps. Floor spinning, falling away. Vertigo.

“Where’s Dean?” The words came out in a painful rush. My voice was small, pinched. “Where’s Dean?”

Roman led me off to a quiet corner. He settled me against the wall, one of each of his large hands holding me steady by the arms. His deep voice rumbled in Samoan, the words that crept into my brain and soothed the overactive neurons.

I tried desperately not to cry, not to make a scene. “Please, Ro. Find Dean. Please!”


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

_(GIF owned by lunatic-desert-child on Tumblr)_

            Black spots danced in my vision. Every breath was harder, more painful. Static rushed in my ears.

            I felt the terror seize me, chased by a phantom ache in the back of my skull, memories of bruises, loneliness, isolation, shame.

            Vomit clawed at the back of my throat. A violent inferno engulfed my being.

            “Llane, ya’ alrigh’?” Lilting Irish tones. A blurred vision of ruby and emerald.

            Murmured voices. A soothing tone that battered against the fear that threatened to drown me. “Find Ambrose. Get him over here as fast as you can.”

            Gasping. Choking. A pressure on my chest so tight that I swore I heard my ribs splinter. Tears grew, swelling and beading upon my lashes. Blinking. Desperate not to ruin Samantha’s hard work.

            I sensed Roman with me, his radiant warmth and soothing voice all that was keeping me from dissolving into panic. Gripping his arms tightly, I fought with every cell to keep from going under the waves that threatened to drag me down.

            Frantic, frenetic energy. Like static in the air before lightning. Roman fell away, I reached for him with a plaintive cry.

            “Shh, I’ve got you, dollface,” Dean said quietly. He took me by the hands and lead me out a side door into a vacant hallway. Cool air raced along my skin as he guided me onto a padded settee.

            I felt his body settle in a crouch in front of me. His hands were braced on the settee on either side of me, thumbs brushing against my knees. Dean spoke quietly, talking me into a smooth breath in, out, and over again. I heard his voice _deep breath in, out slow, deep breath in, out slow, deep breath…_

            Second by second, heartbeat by heartbeat, the panic seeped out of me. Fatigue, numbness, and cold took its place. I felt suddenly empty, hollow.

            At my feet, Dean sat back on his heels. Worry clouded his blue-eyed gaze. “You’re okay, Llane. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

            “I’m sorry,” I whispered, wiping angrily at my eyes. My fingers came away black with mascara. Guilt at ruining my makeup spilled into my veins.

            Dean squeezed my knees. “Self-protective mechanism, remember?”

            He tugged his pocket square from the front of his jacket, used it to gently dab away the makeup from beneath my eyes. His touch was tender.

            For a long while, we sat in silence. After a few minutes, Dean took up a seat beside me on the settee. He slipped an arm around my shoulders, drew me close to his side. His presence was a balm, an anchor that kept me from falling under tidal waves of panic, the solid rock that gave me a place of safety.

            Down the hall, the door opened. Seth careened around the frame, came jogging down the carpet runner towards us. His dark eyes were hooded with concern and shadowed with something that looked like hurt. I watched, guilt bubbling in my stomach, as Seth glanced between the Dean and me.

            “Llane, are you okay?” Seth stopped a few feet away, looking at us as if wondering whether he was welcome.

            I sighed, blinked away fresh tears. “Emotional support Dean,” I murmured, shrugging.

            At my side, Dean chuckled. He leaned forward, kissed the side of my head. “Whenever you need me.”

            Seth stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets. I glanced sideways at Dean, felt him give my side a gentle squeeze of confirmation. Carefully, dizziness making my head feel heavy, I rose to my feet and closed the distance between us. My arms went around his waist, head tucked against his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before he wrapped me in his embrace.

            I could sense something off. Something not quite right. It set my heart thumping painfully in my chest. Fear threatened to rise again, to grip me by the throat, to strangle the sense of calm from every fiber of my being. An overwhelming desire to run back to Dean, to beg him for my peace back… it hit me in a way that weakened my knees. I tried so hard not to look back at my tag partner.

            I tried… I swear I tried.

            Before I could stop myself, I twisted away from Seth, my anxious energy focusing on Dean. I closed my eyes, worked to force my feet to stay still, rooted to the ground. Guilt overtook every ounce of my blood. My stomach turned. I was certain I was going to vomit right there on the carpet.

            Seth tensed, backed away from me. His hands slipped away from my body. Cold swooped in, rising goosebumps on my skin. Ice flowed, settled around my heart. It calcified with anxiety, with terror, with guilt. Tears blurred my vision. He moved. Put space between us.

            I was left, halfway between Seth and Dean, the whole of my soul torn in two.  

            “Don’t,” Dean said firmly, looking beyond me toward Seth. His eyes were chips of sapphire, glinting dangerously. He stood up slowly, his lanky body unfolding from the settee. “Don’t you dare walk away from her right now.”

            Seth pivoted on his heel at the sound of Dean’s voice. His shoulders squared, jaw set, mouth turned in an unhappy sneer. He raised his finger, pointing at my tag partner with venom. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Ambrose.”

            With gentle hands, Dean took me by the shoulders and moved me back to the settee. Once he had, he turned back to Seth and stalked across the space between them. He squared up with Seth—toe to toe, nose to nose. I watched his chest puff out.

            His voice was menacingly low when he spoke. “Get your head out of your ass, Rollins. She just freaked the fuck out after telling every single person she works with about her past. You saw how it affected her when she told just us.”

            Blood pounded in my ears. I was certain I was going to vomit.

            “And even then… she ran to you,” Seth said viciously. His cheeks were bright and red.

            The tears came at last, rolling down my cheeks, taking my beautiful makeup with them. I didn’t have the energy to wipe them away. At that instant, all I wanted was to sink into nothingness in the floor.

            “Are you really worrying about your ego right now?” I watched the anger burn through his body. Dean seemed to fight within himself.

            Seth took a step closer to him. “I should be the one she comes to! Not you!”

            My heart slipped, dropped through to my toes in shards. Jagged pieces of it sliced into my ribs, my limbs. Air rushed from my lungs. Every breath was agony.

            I watched their exchange in horror. The hurt was evident in Seth’s dark eyes. Pain etched itself in his every feature… pain that I’d caused. I’d wounded him by not going to him with my fear and anxiety. I made him feel less than wanted by turning to Dean instead of him.

            And yet… there was something else hidden behind his features.

            If I had to name it, I would call it jealousy.

            Dean’s shoulders slumped momentarily then squared once again. His voice dropped, almost too low to hear. “You overreact. You hover. God damn it, Rollins, you need to help her find peace where she can get it. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in her head?”

            “I think I know her pretty fucking well, Ambrose,” Seth growled, stepping closer to his Shield brother. The air crackled. I waited for the first blow.

            “You have no idea.” Dean glanced over his shoulder. His face fell, ice-blue eyes looking forlorn as he watched me. “You don’t know what it’s like growing up in constant fear. Not knowing if you’re going to be safe. If you’re going to have a bed to sleep in or food to eat or if the people who are responsible for you are going to be good or bad. You lived a fucking cushy life compared to what Llane went through. And it wouldn’t hurt you to try to understand that.”


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

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            “Rollins can be a gobshite,” Becky said vehemently as we sat on the spare bed in her hotel room.  She was dressed in worn sweatpants and a tank top that seemed to have had better days. Her hair was held back in a low ponytail, face devoid of its usual makeup. She looked much younger. “His ego is always getting’ tha be’ter of ‘im.”

            I sighed, tugging at a loose thread on the pillow in my lap. “Sometimes I wonder if he even thinks before he acts.”

            Becky shrugged. “Pro’ly not, but ‘hat’s one of tha reasons to love ‘im.” She leaned back against the pillows, emerald eyes locked on me. “Ya _do_ love ‘im, don’ ya?”

            My heart thudded in my chest. “I do. But I don’t know if I can deal with him always trying to make choices for me. I lived my whole life without being able to, and now… it’s the first time I’ve had that kind of freedom.”

            “Did ya tell ‘im tha’?”

            “A thousand times,” I said, chuckling sadly. “But he’s the Architect—he’s always trying to make plans.”

            “Dean gives ya freedom.” She said it matter-of-factly. “Tha’s why ya feel safe with ‘im.”

            A nod. Shame. Guilt. The feeling that I’d gotten everything all wrong.

            “Doesnna mean nothin’, Llane. Tha two o’ ya get one another. Seth just ‘as his ‘ead stuck straigh’ up ‘is arse.”

            I couldn’t help it. I giggled, feeling light for the first time in hours. Becky grinned, apparently having done what she set out to do.

 

            Quick look around the room, certainty that I’d gotten everything. Nothing left behind. No clothes. No makeup. No cords or letters or jewelry. It was all stuffed into my bags, ready to be lugged onto a plane and deposited in the laundry in Davenport.

            A knot wedged into my chest. I’d stayed most of the night with Becky in her room and only snuck back into the one I shared with Seth just after four in the morning. The bed hadn’t been touched. It was empty except for my things. It seemed Seth had taken his stuff and gone to bunk with someone else.

            I assumed it was Roman since Renee was with Dean, and I didn’t think Seth would want to be around my tag partner just then.

            Deep breath. One after the other. A painful forcing of myself to push back tears.

            Perhaps I should change my ticket and go back to North Carolina for the holidays. I was certain Carl and Hannah wouldn’t mind me stopping by for a surprise visit. And Bran and Georgie would feel horribly smug when they found out why I’d come crawling back.

 

            Downstairs, superstars were packing suitcases and other trinkets into their cars. I looked around for our beat-up SUV. For a moment, I thought about trying to catch a ride to the airport with someone else. But unless I was really going to ditch my new home in Davenport for my old home in the Carolinas, I’d still have to face Seth on the flight.

            Sighing, I forced myself forward. I finally spotted the car halfway down the parking lot. The trunk was up, and Seth was stuffing his bags in the back. _Of course,_ I thought, steps slowing, _of course I’d have to face him straight off._

            My feet crunched on the salt spread on the lot. I tried to keep my face neutral as I got closer. When Seth didn’t turn around, I thought he was purposely ignoring me. It was only when I was a few steps away that I noticed the Beats headphones hidden by the hood on his sweatshirt. The music filtered into the space between us, angry notes and rhythms.

            I waited until he was finished packing his things before stepping forward. His brown eyes went wide for a fraction of a moment before he rearranged his features and stepped out of the way. I lifted my bags, tucking them off into a corner where they wouldn’t be in the way. After I’d made sure I had a book, my phone, and my iPod for the trip, I walked past Seth to the back seat of the car. Never mind that Roman had the keys and he was nowhere in sight.

            The car rocked to one side as Seth slid in on the other side. I watched from the corner of my eye as he pulled off his hood and slipped the headphones down to hang around his neck. He blew into his hands, trying to warm them.

            I waited, not going to give him the satisfaction of speaking first.

            Silence stretched out. The air crackled with it. Felt heavy. Painful. Suffocating.

            I gulped hard. Drove down the panic that threatened to overwhelm me. Dean wasn’t here to anchor me. Roman was absent, his soothing tones and radiant heat too far away to calm. It was just me.

            Alone.

            “Are you going to say anything?” Seth asked, an edge to his voice. He sounded as if he was put out by my stubborn refusal to open my mouth.

            I lifted a brow, forced myself to keep my eyes on the book open in my lap. “I don’t think I have anything to say.”

            Color flushed his cheeks as he grit his teeth. He was frustrated.

            Good.

            “I’m really trying to understand, Llane.”

            Lips pressed into a thin line. An iron will tamping down the words that wanted to rush out.

            “Am I supposed to be okay with the fact that you’d rather be with Dean than with me? That he’s the one you want when you’re terrified?” The strain in his voice belied his effort to keep his tone even. His fingers twitched against his knees. “I know you don’t want me to make decisions. I know you want to feel like you don’t have to hide things. I know…”

            “You don’t know anything!” I spat the words at him, anger bubbling like venom in my veins. “If you had any idea, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

            Seth shrank back, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before. “Then help me.”

            “I’ve tried, Seth.” I sighed, forcing myself to stay steady. “It isn’t my fault that Dean understands what’s going on in my head. And I can’t help the fact that just having him close by eases my panic. It just… is, Seth. It just is.”

            He looked away, for the first time seeming to understand what I meant. Perhaps it would finally get through to him.

            Then he opened his mouth. “Why can’t you come to me? Why can’t I do that for you?”

            Deep breath. A thousand of them. A million.

            “You do,” I whispered, knowing what was going to happen next.

            “But not like Dean does.”

            I shook my head, feeling hollow. Like I was letting Seth down. Like every word out of my mouth was meant to hurt him. To rip his heart to pieces.

            My throat burned with the effort of holding back tears.

            “I don’t know what you want me to say.” My voice broke. I felt the seismic force rushing through me, shattering each piece of my soul like crystal. “How can I be sorry if it gives me peace?”

            Seth turned his body away from me, pressed his forehead against the back of the seat in front of him. His hands hung loosely between his knees. The only sound in the car was our breathing. Mine strangled, his ragged.

            “Am I supposed to be happy about this?” he murmured.

            I shrugged, not knowing what to say. Everything was so damaged, so desperately broken. Every breath dragged the tears closer. I was at the end of my rope… a dam ready to burst.

            “If you don’t want me to come ho—to Davenport…” My voice caught. Cracked. I was surprised at how much I _did_ want to go with him. How much I hoped that being together for a week on holiday would help fix whatever had broken between us. “I can go to Carl and Hannah’s.”

            His movements were lightning quick. In an instant, he had me by the hands. He looked at them, almost as if he didn’t know why he’d done it. I waited for him to let go.

            He didn’t. Instead he moved closer.

            Softness mixed with the scratch of facial hair. His lips pressed against my forehead. I blinked, closed my eyes. Felt a tear slide along my cheek.

            “Don’t,” he whispered fiercely. He sniffed. I heard tears in his voice. “Don’t pull away. Please.”


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

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            The dogs were anxious. As if they could feel the tension that rippled between Seth and me. I’d been so emotionally exhausted that I slept most of the way home on the plane. By the time we made it back to our house in Davenport, I was a bundle of nerves.

            This feeling was new for me. I didn’t know how to manage the split nature of my being. Dean was the anchor in every storm that I’d weathered this year. Roman was my rock, the one I could find when I needed a center. And Seth… he had every last shred of my heart.

            I busied myself as soon as we set foot in the house. Everything became a routine that I’d fallen into in our days at home. Methodically, I emptied our suitcases, sorted laundry and began the first load in the washing machine. I zipped up the bags, stored them in the hall closet just outside our bedroom. Toiletries were tucked away on a shelf in the bathroom, ready to be picked up when we packed again.

            Seth ghosted through the house, the dogs following on his heels. For a while, he got lost in his office catching up on things at Black and Brave. Then he sat up the XBOX in the living room and tried to play Madden. Frustration won out after a while, and he shut the game off with a grunt.

            At last, we found ourselves unable to avoid one another. I was in the corner of our bedroom, putting away the book I’d just finished. Nails clicked across the floor as Prince and Kevin made their way into the room, racing toward their plush beds by the window. Snow fluttered down in fat flakes outside. Frost danced like lace on the window.

            “Llane?” I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice. It was small, vulnerable.

            Hesitant.

            Stand. Turn. Hazel eyes locked on the form in the doorway. Taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the taut set of his shoulders. The worry hidden in the frown of his mouth.

            “Yes?” I took a step forward, overcome with the urge to comfort him, to promise that I would make it all better.

            He moved closer, feet moving over the floor like whispers. A static charge snapped through the space between us. Something stirred in my soul. The heavy warmth of a southern night burned along my spine. Not quite flames of lust and desire. More like hope, like the rise of an unknown dawn, promising a whole new world on the horizon.

            “I’m sorry.” Seth said the words with conviction. With every ounce of sincerity that he possessed. He stood before me, stripped bare to the essential elements of _him_ —Colby and Seth and Tyler… all the pieces that made him the man I’d fallen in love with.

            Gravity tugged us toward one another. We rotated around a center, the pivot point of our future.

            “I know,” I whispered, reaching for him without conscious decision.

            In a moment, I was caught up in his embrace. He delved a hand into my hair, cradling the back of my head. He held onto me, hand splayed along the center of my spine. His hot breath spilled over my neck. Burning tears followed in its wake.

            My arms went around him. There was something about him that was broken. Something that terrified me with the fact that I might not be able to fix it. I didn’t want to be the cause of his pain, and it shattered my heart to think that I couldn’t make all of this right again.

            I soothed him, hands rubbing slowly up and down his back. There was little more I could do. It seemed this was something he needed to exorcise on his own.

            Seth finally looked up, his deep brown eyes glistening with tears. The sight of it twisted my gut—it was the sensation of falling. I brushed my thumbs just beneath his eyes, wiping away the tears that gathered on his lashes. My own eyes burned in response to seeing him cry.

            He was such a strong man, and it wounded me so deeply to see him like that.

            I wished I could make him whole. That I could take his pain away.

            Realization pinged between my cells.

            My body moved of its own accord. I lifted onto my toes and cradled his face in my hands. He watched me warily as I leaned forward, pressed my lips to his gently. Summer night warmth burst into gentle flames along my spine. Electricity traced its way down my limbs.

            “I love you more than anything and anyone else in this world, Colby Lopez,” I whispered, my forehead pressed against his. “And I love Seth Rollins and Tyler Black just the same.”

            He clutched at me as if the world was spinning out beneath him. I breathed deep of the scent of him and kept talking.

            “You are my heart. You have every single piece of it forever and always. I love you. I love you. I love you.” My gaze locked to his. “I want you. Seth, you are so… vital. Sometimes I might need Dean to help me remember how to breathe, but without you I can’t. I just… physically can’t breathe when I think about not having you.”

            Seth lifted me from the ground. I hooked my arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist. His eyes swept over my face. I drank in the sight of him.

            “I love you, Llane,” he whispered firmly. His hold on me tightened. I let him squeeze me as tightly as he wanted, to hold on to me and reassure himself that I wasn’t going to leave. That I was there in his arms and that I loved him desperately.

           

            The water was molten, steam rising all around us. Seth stood beneath the spray, rivulets running down over his shoulders and chest. The sight of it stoked the flames that burned along my spine, turning them from gentle to a near raging inferno. He watched me, eyes dark, pupils blown wide. It made me shiver.

            He reached out and drew me against him. Our lips met, and I tasted the water that dripped along his jaw. My arms slipped around his neck. He held me against him with his hands splayed over my back. It seemed that everything rotated around the touch of our skin.

            I smiled against his mouth, feeling the world right itself around me. An anchor was fine. A rock to lean upon was a luxury. But the ground beneath my feet and the air in my lungs was vital.

            And that was what Seth Rollins was for me.

           

            He laughed when I massaged shampoo into his long locks, when I kissed the _bushido_ tattoo at the base of his neck. A groan escaped his lips when my fingers slipped over his skin in soap suds. I was careful to keep my hands from where he wanted them most. Yet I took my time relearning the dips and lines and planes of his body. More than erotic, it was some deep-seated connection that burned its way into my soul.

           

            His hands were tender as he rinsed conditioner from my thick hair. The touch of his fingertips against my scalp was soothing in a way that made my eyes fall shut. He kissed his way along my throat, my shoulder. I sighed in contentment with every stroke of his hands along my body. It was the knitting of our relationship back together.

 

            It was late when we slipped into bed together. We lay face-to-face, whispering until exhaustion overtook us. When I awoke the next morning, I was wrapped up in his arms, my head tucked beneath his chin.

            It wasn’t quite perfect, but it was beautiful in a way that I didn’t want to lose. Something new had taken shape between us—some point in space that held the two of us in rotation. It was charged with the electricity that seemed to spring between the two of us whenever we were near one another.

            A new beginning, that’s what it was.  


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

_(GIF owned by rocknrollins on Tumblr)_

            A roar like a wounded beast. Vibrating among the rafters. Reverberating until it filled all my senses. It was so loud it drowned out my music.

            I stopped at the top of the ramp, the belt draped over my shoulder. My gaze swept the crowd, taking in the signs blazoned with my name, my symbol, the t-shirts with the new Hounds of Justice logo, with my logo lettered over with _Be Unpredictable_ , _Lunatic Llane_ bright on black fabric. It was everywhere.

            _I_ was everywhere.

            _We_ were everywhere.

            Nodding. Holding back the grin that threatened to spread over my face. The hometown crowd was hot.

            I strutted down the ramp, high-fiving kids along the barricade. A burst of speed, sliding under the bottom rope, belt still clutched tight. Tuck, roll, a cat scale run up the turnbuckle. I stood on the middle rope, gripped the belt strap in one hand and held it over my head with a roar just like Roman did.

            The pop made my blood rush through my veins.

            Climb down. Grab a microphone. Stand firm in the middle of the ring, Raw Women’s Title slung over my shoulder proudly. Hounds of Justice merch dressed up with slate leggings, a matching leather jacket, and sneakers. My hair was loose.

            “What’s up, Tarheels!” I shouted into the mic. The crowd screamed, some boos mixed in. I chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Duke… Wolfpack… I know you’re here too.”

            Another screaming pop. I let myself grin.

            “Phew,” I huffed, “it’s good to be home! Nothing like a southern winter. It’s cold as _hell_ in Iowa, y’all.”

            A split moment of silence. Then the heart-pumping sound of Seth’s music. Black and white static blurred along the Titontron. Flames erupted, _Burn it down_ screamed from the speakers.

            I quirked a brow as Seth appeared at the top of the ramp, mic in hand. He wasn’t supposed to be here. I immediately wondered if something had gone wrong backstage.

            “Hey, hey, Black… don’t be trashing Iowa,” he said with a wide smile. “You live there now, too.”

            Heat rushed through my face as the crowd let out whistles and catcalls. I couldn’t take my eyes off the strutting form of Seth Rollins as he came down the ramp, a smirk on his face and a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

            He climbed the steps, ducked through the ropes. It was odd that he didn’t have the Intercontinental Title or Tag Team Title around his waist. And he was in street clothes.

            “Don’t look at me like that,” he said as he leaned against the turnbuckle. There was something far too nonchalant about him. It tickled something at the base of my brain. “Look, I know you’re out here to tell Ronda to bring it at TLC, and I’m gonna let you get to that in a second. But before you do, I’ve got something to show you. Guys, roll it.”

            The lights in the arena dimmed. The Titantron lit up with the Hounds of Justice logo. Soft music played over the image as it transitioned to a still shot of me at the charity fundraiser, my hair in an elaborate design, the black and red gown striking in its elegance. Transition. Another image took its place—the one of Seth’s face when he first saw me in the dress. Dean and Roman grinned at his side, hands resting firmly on his shoulders. Tears blurred my vision as I took in his face. My heart thumped hard in my chest.

            Pictures came and went. Our first official Instagram post. Action shots of us in and out of the ring. The night I won the title. Finally, the last image faded away and the lights came up.

            My peripheral vision tracked movement, and I glanced to the side. Roman stood on one side of the ring, Dean on the other. Neither of them had their gold. Both were in street clothes, just like Seth. They had wicked grins on their faces, as if they knew some secret that I didn’t.

            The crowd started screaming, squealing. I looked up, turned around. Finally saw what had worked them into such a frenzy.

            Seth was down on one knee in the center of the ring, a box in his hand. His deep brown eyes were turned up toward me, a blush bright on his cheeks. He licked his lips, took a breath.

            “I know you’re going to kill me for this,” he said into the mic with a nervous laugh. “But hey, it was in this very ring that I first set my eyes on you. So… uh…”

            He paused, took another breath. Glanced at Roman and then at Dean, who gave him a curt nod of approval. “This is way more nerve wrecking that I thought it would be. But there are ten thousand people here so…”

            I couldn’t take my eyes off the box in his hand. My stomach turned over, dropped through the mat. Tremors ran along my limbs. For a moment, I thought I’d faint.

            “Llane Black… will you marry me?”

            The words bled into the air, wound their way into my ears and into my brain. Every other sound died away. It was just the two of us, alone in a giant arena in this moment. Somewhere deep in my brain, I realized we’d have a record of this moment forever.

            Seth sat the mic on the mat and opened the box. Inside was the most unique ring I’d ever seen. It was a wide band of black gold that was studded around the sides with three side-by-side rows of white diamonds. At the top was a square cut ruby that was as big as my thumb nail. It was beautiful.

            It was perfect.

            The sound of the world came rushing back into me. Around the arena, people were on their feet. My home state stood behind me, ten thousand people chanting _yes yes yes_ over and over again.

            I grinned down at Seth, and nodded. “Yes,” I said, loud enough for the mic in my hand to pick it up.

            I held out my left hand and watched as Seth slipped it onto my trembling finger. When he climbed to his feet, I couldn’t hold back anymore. The title slammed to the mat, completely forgotten, as I launched myself in him. He snatched me out of the air, wrapped his arms tightly around my back. I hugged him close, arms around his neck, legs hooked around his hips.

            “I love you,” he whispered into my ear. “Please don’t hate me for this.”

            I couldn’t help but laugh. “I might be angry later, but right now I don’t care. I love you so much, Colby Lopez.”

            His arms tightened at the sound of his given name. It didn’t matter to me whether he was Colby, Seth, or Tyler… but it mattered to him—it mattered that he knew that I loved him to the depths of the person that he was.

            The shouting got louder. I sensed the presence of Dean and Roman in the ring with us. When I finally wriggled out of Seth’s arms, I was able to see the stage. Every single member of the Raw roster was there. Stephanie, Triple H, even Vince were standing there with broad smiles. Bayley and Sasha whistled. Finn clapped a little louder than all the others.

            After a moment, they filed back into the backstage area. I looked around at the three men in the ring with me. Dean reached down, picked up my title, draped it over my shoulder. Roman handed me a mic. I stood next to Seth, turned toward the stationary camera.

            “Hey, uh, Mom? Dad? You better call Georgie and Bran. I just got engaged.” The crowd laughed. Seth pressed a kiss to the side of my head.

            I let myself drink in the feeling for a moment. Then I sat the moment aside, promising myself that I would take it back out and review it again later.

            “Since I was so… wonderfully interrupted…” I said, falling back into character as best I could. Seth grinned wickedly. “Let me get back to what I came out here to say.”

            I glanced at the title. Back at the three men who stood at my back. Grit and strength turned my sinews to iron and steel. I stared straight up the ramp. “Ronda Rousey, at TLC you get your rematch. Not quite the match I wanted, but you’re too much of a coward to take me on with tables, ladders, and chairs at my disposal. So, when we step in this ring at TLC with my title hanging from the rafters, you better bring everything you’ve got. Because I _will_ leave as the Raw Women’s Champion, and you’ll leave on a stretcher.”


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

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            Ice. Sharp fingers gripping my spine, yanking on my insides. Sweat beading along my forehead, soaking into my hair.

            Racing pulse, hard enough to jolt me upright.

            The faint whir of wheels on pavement bled into my senses. Grease and heat swirled around my nostrils, seeping in and turning my stomach. I fought back the urge to gag.

            Rough fingers settled on my shoulder. I turned, caught sight of Seth watching me with a worried expression. Fragments of memory flashed through my mind. Terror spiked.

            Dean turned around just in time to see my hand land hard on Seth’s cheek. Red bloomed over Seth’s cheek, barely hidden beneath the scruff of his beard. He stared back at me with wide brown eyes.

            “Don’t you ever do that to me, Colby Daniel Lopez, or I swear to God I will eviscerate you slowly!” The words came out in a rush, the air in my lungs constricted by the heavy racing of my heart. Heat burned over my cheeks.

            “What the hell?” he retorted, looking between me and the two men in the front. Roman watched in the rearview mirror. Dean was clearly trying not to smirk.

            I turned toward the window, watching the highway blur by in the darkness. The longer the silence stretched, the further away the memory became. The pieces turned murky in my mind, a sudden jolt that it had been a dream.

            A nightmare.

            Disgust ran through me. Not at the thought of marrying Seth, or at the idea of sharing that announcement with the world—there was no escaping that—but at how thoroughly my body had believed that it was real. The adrenaline dripped away slowly, leaving me feel exhausted and hollow.

            “Are you going to tell me why the hell you slapped me?”

            I blinked. Turned toward him. The shame on my face was just as red as the handprint glowing on his.

            “I… you…” I drew a deep breath, hoping to steady myself. My mind groped for the last vestiges of clarity of the nightmare. The words came out in an accusatory tone. “You made a huge spectacle of me, put me on the spot in front of 10,000 people and backed me into a corner where I had no choice but to do what you wanted. And it pissed me off.”

            Seth looked as if I’d slapped him again. He shared a quizzical look with Dean. “When did I do this?”

            A chuckle from the front seat. Roman met my gaze. “Women do this all the time, man. You do some shit in a dream and then you get blamed for it when you’re awake.”

            Dean almost doubled over laughing in the front seat. “Shit, Llane. You slapped the man for something he didn’t even do!”

            I sank down in my seat, feeling picked on. “Yeah, well, neither of you were any help. You two let him propose in the ring in front of a live audience on Raw!”

            The laughing stopped as abruptly as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Dean reached out a hand, tapped my knee with his fist. “If you think for one second that the two of us would let him pull some crazy ass bullshit like that, you’re the dumbest woman on the planet.”

            Seth reached for me again. This time, I didn’t recoil, didn’t wind up to hit him again. His fingers squeezed my wrist gently.

            “I know you better than that, Llane.” He sighed a little, scooted closer to me on the seat. “A forced choice is no choice at all. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

            I covered my face with both hands, mortified at how a nightmare had gotten to me so thoroughly. I tucked against his chest and tried really hard to keep hold of my emotions. “I’m so sorry that I smacked you. I’m so sorry that I make life so difficult and make you think that you had to walk on eggshells. I promise I’m going to do better, Seth. That I’m going to make this easier for you.”

            He didn’t say anything. Instead he wrapped me tightly in his arms and kissed the top of my head with a lingering touch of his lips. I closed my eyes again, suddenly apprehensive that I would fall into another nightmare.

            Normalcy settled over the car. Companionable silence.

            Broken by a deepthroated chuckle from my side, one that vibrated along my entire body. “But you dream about marrying me, huh?”

            “Dude, shut up or she’s gonna hit you with that full name bullshit again. And neither of us is going to protect you.” Dean spoke with finality, even if there was a hint of humor in his voice.

 

            The nightmare was like a ghost that hovered over my shoulder. As the time for the show got closer, my nerves felt more and more frayed. My fingers trembled as I laced up my boots, tied my wrist straps on, tried to snap my championship around my waist. In the makeup chair, my leg bounced uncontrollably.

            Anxiety now took control of my existence. My stomach roiled. I clenched my teeth, hoping to stamp down the feeling of nausea that bubbled up my throat. The room felt too hot, seemed too blurred on the edges.

            “Alright, Llane, you’ve got to sit still or I’m going to poke you in the eye,” said Gina, the makeup girl on duty, waving a mascara wand at me.

            “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knotting my hands in my lap. I worked to focus, keep an iron grip on my feet flat and body impossibly still.

            The vomit crawled up my esophagus, sharp talons shredding the tissue into ribbons. I clenched the arms of the makeup chair to hold it down. I drew deep breaths through my nose, closed my eyes in the hope that it would keep it at bay.

            “Trashcan,” I ground out through clenched teeth, reaching out with grabbing fingers. Gina looked confused until I slammed both hands over my mouth to stop the bile. She thrust a plastic tub into my hands an instant before I could no longer stop myself. Heaves tore through my body as I emptied the contents of my stomach.

            I squeezed my eyes shut, doing my best to not ruin Gina’s hard work. My stomach still churned, a warning that I might just throw up again, so I kept a tight grip on the trashcan. The scent of it wafted up, making me lightheaded.

            Someone dabbed my lips with a damp paper towel. I heard the distinctive snap of the lid coming off a plastic water bottle. It was pressed into my hand, followed by clear instructions to swish and spit.

            Silence.   
            Goosebumps rising on my arms.

            “Llane, we’re almost ready for you in gorilla.”

            I doubled over the trashcan, caught in a cycle of painful heaving, a desire to empty my stomach of something that wasn’t there.

            Suddenly, I was terrified of the thought of setting foot on that entrance ramp.


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

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The snow was heavy on the windowsill as I sat in the office of Black and Brave in Moline, an empty trashcan at my side. Some thought my recurrent nausea was a sign of me being pregnant—and the message boards and fan sites were rife with that kind of gossip—and others followed my lead and retold the story that it was food poisoning. No one really knew the truth.

And the truth was that I was filled up, every cell and molecule in my body, with a wholly irrational terror of being in front of a live crowd.

Instead of being a one-time occurrence, I had fallen into a repetition of the nightmare every few nights. Sleep began to elude me. Exhaustion stole my appetite, my patience, eroded my will to clean up the shitstorm that was my life.

Nausea and an empty trashcan were my constant companions lately.

“Hey, Llane,” Marek said from the doorway, “you feeling up to talking to watching some of the girls’ matches? They’re prepping for their final test.”

My head swam at the thought of getting up. It felt as if I hadn’t eaten anything of substance in a month, though it was more like four or five days. Weak broth was just about all I could handle lately. A shiver ran down my spine.

 _Maybe it is food poisoning. Or the flu_ , I thought, somewhat hopefully. _Maybe I’ll be back to my old self in a week._

“Yeah,” I sighed, exhaustion evident in the slump of my shoulders. “I might puke, but I’ll come watch.”

I dragged myself to my feet, closing my eyes at the swirling colors that filled my vision. My fingers closed around the top of the trashcan, pulling it along behind me.

Marek sat on the metal risers along the side of the ring. The girls were paired up along the side, ready to get called up into the ring for their practice. I tugged my sweater more tightly around me and watched as one after the other the pairs went through their matches.

           

“How are you feeling, dollface?” Dean asked over the video chat. The angle of the camera looked like the phone was propped up against something. Renee was visible at his side.

I groaned, rolled my eyes. “Better. It gets worse when I think about the next televised show.”

Renee leaned against Dean’s shoulder, made a sad face. “Have you thought about talking to someone?”

Dean’s brows spiked up and he nodded. “Might not be a bad idea. Maybe they can help get that under control.”

I slumped onto the kitchen bar. The cool marble felt good against my fevered skin. “I don’t think it’s that bad though. It can’t all be from one stupid nightmare.”

“Honey, I think it’s more than the nightmare.” Renee looked at me sympathetically. “It’ll do you good just to get some stuff off your chest.”

I sighed, ran my hand through my hair. “I guess I could call around, see if anyone has a spot open.”

“If you need us there, just say the word, dollface. There’s only room for one lunatic in this relationship.” Dean gave me his wonderful, sweet smile. I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks, guys. I miss you.”

Some of the mirth slipped from Dean’s expression. “Miss you too, Llane.”

 

Sweaty palms. Jitters crawling like ants beneath my skin. Limbs that wouldn’t sit still. A pulse that went erratic, taking my breath away. Ice slithered around my spine, raised goosebumps over my body.

Seth settled his hand on my knee, soothing the bouncing energy. His touch was firm, calming. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, breathed in the scent of his cologne and his skin. With every intake, the anxiety dipped just a little lower. Gravity took hold, pulled my cells into center, their orbit around Seth.

“I’ll be right here,” he said softly, slipping his arm around me. In the absence of his hand, my leg began its bouncing journey once more. “If you need me, all you have to do is ask for me.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “You’re not coming in with me?” Panic spilled adrenaline into my veins.

Gently, Seth shook his head. “This is something I think you need to do by yourself. _For_ yourself.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. The acid of tears made my face flush. “I can’t.”

“Yes,” he said softly, firmly against my ear. “Yes, you can. You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Llane Black. You fucking beat Ronda Rousey. You could kick my ass. And you can fucking beat this.”

Tremors ran through my entire body. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. All I wanted was to get control of myself—to get away from this feeling that I was just a passenger in my own skin. That my brain had hijacked everything, was running free with every fear and deep-seated doubt.

Vomit churned up my throat. I fought to push it down, to grasp onto some control in my own body.

Before I could do anything more, the door across the waiting room opened. A smiling woman in a smart white blouse and black trousers called my name. She gestured me over. Seth squeezed my hand as I stood up on trembling legs. I glanced back at him once before I slipped through the door into the therapist’s office.

“Hello,” said the therapist, taking a seat in a plush chair. A notebook balanced on the arm. “I’m Natasha Gill, but you can call me Tasha. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” I mumbled nervously, looking around the room. It looked like an office in any regular building. Only the shelf filled with medical journals and psychiatric texts identified the purpose of the room.

“Take a seat, Llane,” Tasha said, gesturing to an overstuffed sofa facing her. “Make yourself comfortable.”

At first, I sat on the edge of the cushions. Discomfort ran through my back so I sank back, tucking one foot up beneath me. Silence hung heavy.

“How are you today, Llane?” Tasha’s head quirked to one side, pen poised over her notebook.

My leg bounced with nervous energy. Something deep inside me twisted painfully, desperate for the anchoring presence of The Shield. In that moment, I was desperate for Roman’s soothing radiance, Dean’s absolute acceptance and centering energy, and Seth’s focused gravity that held me firmly in the present. I knew wholeheartedly that I wasn’t strong enough to face this demon alone.

“I have no idea,” I said softly, picking at the skin at the base of my fingernail.

Tasha nodded. “Can you tell me what you’re thinking right now?”

“I… I’m not whole right now. I’m not strong enough to do any of this by myself.”

With that, the words started pouring out. And surprisingly the nightmare was the least of my worries.

 

Seth was still there in the waiting room where I’d left him. When Tasha walked me to the door, I felt a rush of relief when I saw his face. A flash of worry rushed across his features as he saw my blotchy face and red eyes. I crossed the room and rested my forehead against his chest. His arms came around me, drawing me back into that revolution around some center between us.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on the top of my head.


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

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            Roughened fingertips along the inside of my wrists. A grip that bordered on painful. The heat of breath against my neck. The perfect feeling of weight settled atop my body.

            Seth’s lips worked lazily down the side of my throat, teeth nipping gently, tongue flicking against the sting. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to get lost in the sensations of just being with him.

            My hips writhed, bucking upward as he hit a delicious spot at the juncture of throat and shoulder. He chuckled and ground his hips forward as his mouth attacked the spot. I struggled a little, halfheartedly trying to get my wrists free of his grasp.

            He stopped, his gaze meeting mine. “Changed your mind?” The words tumbled out in a gravel tone.

            I whimpered, shook my head. “Definitely not,” I panted out.

            A wicked grin spread across his face. He switched the hold on my wrists, keeping them pinned above my head with one large hand. The other disappeared, tugging something from his back pocket. When I saw what he held, I grinned. Black fabric, red embroidered words. He made quick work of tying my wrists together with one of his _Burn it Down_ wrist straps. He secured it to one of the wrought iron slats of the headboard.

            “Good,” he purred in my ear. The tip of his nose brushed along my jaw, making me shiver in delight. His fingers worked their way beneath the hem of my tattered t-shirt. Goosebumps followed the ghost of his touch, the moan in my throat getting more desperate as they drifted lower.

            The fabric bunched up beneath my chin just as his lips settled against my breast. He took his time, teasing with his featherlight kisses everywhere but where I wanted. I writhed as he squeezed and kissed and licked my flesh. My heels dug into the mattress, desperate to get him where I most needed. Yanking on the bonds did no good. Nor did my quiet, whimpered pleading.

            At last, he brushed the tip of his tongue against my nipple. I let out a squeal that made him chuckle darkly. The sound broke some dam within him. His touch became less gentle, more insistent. With his mouth thoroughly occupied, one hand slipped over my stomach and beneath the band of my panties. I nearly screamed at the light brush of his fingertip against my clit.

            He was a magician, a master, expertly playing my body to elicit every sensation and sound that he desired. It was a wicked kind of magic… teetering on the edge of fear and pleasure. This kind of letting go, of choosing to trust him… it was a heady drug.

            Seth groaned as his fingers slipped inside me. First one then two, pumping slowly as he teased me inch by inch toward an orgasm. He kept an agonizingly slow pace as his mouth drifted downward, dropping open-mouthed kisses along my abdomen. Even as he slipped my panties down my legs, his fingers never stopped their ministrations.

            I opened my eyes, caught sight of him kneeling at the end of the bed. His dark eyes were fixed on my core, pupils blown wide with barely controlled lust. I let my gaze trace the dips and planes of his bare chest, the way his hips narrowed and disappeared beneath his belted jeans. Completely exposed, I was surprised to find how safe I felt.

            He leaned forward, set his lips against my clit and sucked gently. His tongue flicked out, circled my sensitive spot in a fury of sensation. My hips bucked as my body clamped tightly on his invading fingers—fingers that never stopped their agonizing pace, drawing out the orgasm that ripped the breath from my lungs.

            For a moment, I thought he would never stop. Part of me wished he wouldn’t. But when he did, I let out a faint sigh of relief. Warmth poured through my entire body, worked its way into my limbs and sinew and bone.

            A split second like infinity spread out around me. Time lost meaning. For one, breathless, wonderful instant, I felt settled in the present in a way that I’d never been before. I felt the smile that ghosted across my lips.

            The bonds around my wrists came loose. Gentle fingers brushed firmly along my hands, wrists, arms. Working feeling in and soreness out. Tender kisses settled on my wrists, the tip of each finger.

            A moment later, Seth gathered me into his arms. The combination of feverish skin and worn denim made me let out an involuntary moan.

            “How do you feel?” he asked, lips pressed against my forehead.

            Quiet. A chance for my thoughts to fill in the space that had taken up by instinct and pleasure.

            “Specify,” I mumbled, settling my palm against his pectoral. Fingertips brushed along his skin, through the fine hair along his chest.

            I felt his smile. “I’m assuming your body feels good, hmm?”

            I nodded against his chest, sighing as his palms stroked down my back. His hold was protective yet tender. The touch of his hands was no longer sexual. It was simply a connection.

            Seth grunted in satisfaction. “How do you feel here?” His large hand cradled the back of my skull.

            Thought. A deep rooting through of the million ideas and sensations and moments that whizzed through my brain at light speed. Breath after breath. The anchoring reminder of the heat of his skin beneath my cheek, my palm.

            “Safe,” I whispered finally. The word was at once perfect and yet not enough.

            Seth’s hold tightened just a little. “Good.”

 

            “What’s that grin for, dollface?” Dean asked from the doorway.

            It was my first night back on Raw after being “sick” and I was trying desperately to keep myself together. I kept forcing myself to focus on that feeling I’d had with Seth the night before, that complete feeling of center and safe.

            Of course, it helped that as soon as I started putting on my wrist straps, I thought about the more… adventurous moments of the night.

            “I…” _Don’t look him in the eye_ , I thought vehemently. _He’ll know exactly what happened._ “I’m just glad to be back.”

            He sat on the bench inside my dressing room—door propped wide open of course—and watched me with hawk-like eyes. “Did you… uh… you ever get to talk to somebody?” Worry flitted across his face when I finally chanced a glance. “Renee wanted to know.”

            Dean shrugged in his characteristic way. He was like me, sometimes feelings were a little too much to deal with. And worrying about someone else made you feel a little out of control.

            I sat next to him, bumped into him with my shoulder. “Yeah,” I said softly. “It was fucking weird.”

            For a moment, I could have sworn that his shoulders slumped. I looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time in a while. There were lines around his eyes and a strain in his posture. My heart cracked just a little.

            I tucked an arm around him and kissed the side of his head. “But it helped. Helps. Standing appointment every two weeks.”

            It seemed like a weight dropped from his shoulders. “Good,” he said, as if that one syllable was enough to settle the whole discussion.

            “Hey, c’mon, it’s time to beat the shit outta somebody,” Roman said, poking his head around the door frame. There was a grin on his face and a glint in his eyes. “And we’ve locked Rollins in a broom closet, so no funny stuff.”

            I couldn’t help but double over laughing. My brothers in The Shield always knew just what I needed.

            “Let him out,” I wheezed, picking up the championship and settling it around my waist. “He fancies himself my good luck charm.”

            Both rolled their eyes. Roman disappeared and Dean gave me a light punch to the shoulder.

            “Lunatic Llane, baby,” Dean growled, starting to bounce up and down.

            “Always.”


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

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            “The following match is under mixed match rules,” JoJo’s voice echoed from the speakers. “Introducing first, the team of Natalya and Bobby Roode!”

            Dean and I bounced in gorilla as our opponents made their way out to the arena. I still winced every time I heard Natalya’s music. At least it still made Dean laugh.

            I moved my joints, cracking and popping them until I felt loose. A kind of electric calm settled into my muscles. I thought back to the night before, running my fingers over my _Black and Brave_ wrist straps. A reminder that control was relative.

            The wildness of Dean’s music hit. He leaned over and kissed the side of my head before he disappeared through the curtain. Shouts and cheers filtered back toward us. “And their opponents, accompanied by Universal Champion Roman Reigns and Intercontinental Champion Seth Rollins, one half of the Raw Tag Team Champions…. _Dean Ambrose_!”

            I laughed, a smirk quirking over my face, as I heard JoJo’s voice announce my partner’s name. Roman sidled up to my left shoulder, Seth on my right. “We’re reduced to _accompaniment_ , Rollins.”

            I felt the charge of Seth’s eyes as they roamed down my form. His voice was filled with mirth. “I’ll accompany this one anywhere.”

            Before I could say anything, my music filled the arena. With one last bounce, I burst through the curtain and walked to the main stage. It took every ounce of my focus to tamp down the panic that started to rise in my veins.

            The crowd popped, their shouts and screams and cheers washing over me. I took up my place next to Dean, using his frenetic energy to calm me.

            “And his partner, your Raw Women’s Champion, _Llane Black!_ ”

            With a roar that would have made Roman proud, Dean and I stalked to the ring. The other two followed behind us, riling up the crowd as they went. At the bottom of the ramp, Dean and I shared a glance before running in, sliding under the bottom rope. We jumped to our feet, and climbed the ropes, posing and shouting toward the fans with glee.

            Dean blocked me into the corner, one hand on each side of my head. He rested his forehead against mine in that way of his. “You good?”

            I took a deep breath and gripped his wrists with my fingers. “Getting there,” I replied quietly. “Ask me again at the end.”

            He smirked and kissed me firmly on top of the head.

            Glancing across the ring, I saw Natty move toward the middle of the ring. Bobby slipped out into the apron. I grinned at Dean and pushed him toward the ropes. I removed my championship and held it up, listening to the crowd scream. With a smirk, I passed it out the ring to Seth, who draped it over his shoulder along with his Tag Team title.

            The bell rang. Natty and I met in the center, locked up. She caught me quickly in a waist lock. I writhed and wriggled to get loose, but her hold tightened with every move I made. Natty twisted me side-to-side, rag dolling me around the center of the ring. It was nearly impossible to get a breath.

            Dean shouted at me from the corner. “Drop out, dollface! Drop out!”

            I rolled my eyes and tried desperately to get my breath back. As quickly as I could, I reached up and gripped the back of her neck. At the same time, I dropped down onto my knees and took her with me. The blow was enough for her to loosen her hold, and I flipped her over my shoulder onto her back.

            I staggered to my feet and backed away, dragging in ragged breaths. My ribs ached. Natty stood up and rushed me. I watched her come closer. Just before she hit me into the corner, I stepped aside and pushed her hard in the back. She slid between the top and second rope, her shoulder making hard contact with the ring post. The sound reverberated through my bones.

            I snatched her by the ankles and pulled with as much strength as I could muster. Natty came loose of the ropes and slammed face first into the canvas. For a moment, I thought about slipping into an ankle lock. Instead, I took to stomping the back of her knee.

            When Natty was curled up on the mat holding her knee and I could hardly catch my breath, I sauntered back to my corner and gave Dean a slap on the bicep.

            The referee signaled the tag. Natty rolled out to the apron as Bobby came charging into the ring. Dean vaulted over the top rope and smiled as he landed shoulder first in Bobby’s chest. The two locked up, grappling back and forth, a test of strength.

            I leaned against the post, panting. My chest ached, there was a stitch in my side that seemed to get worse with every passing second. I pressed my hand over it, hoping that the pressure would ease the pain. _God, I’d kill for a drink right now_ , I thought.

            Roman stood by the ring near the end of the entrance ramp. He paced slowly, trying to look like the vicious Big Dog that he was in the ring. I couldn’t help but grin. I knew better.

            “Focus, _itiiti,_ ” he growled at me.

            I rolled my eyes and leaned against the top rope to catch my breath. Seth touched the back of my leg, just above my boot. His presence pulled me into center, tied me to the anchor that was the present.

            Dean rolled Bobby up, getting a two count. Frustration hit my partner when he made it back to his feet. He barely got his senses about him before Bobby ran into him, backing him hard into our corner. I let out a little squeal then slapped Dean in the back.

            I slipped between the ropes and stood between Dean and Bobby. I waved my hands, flicking my fingers back toward their corner. “Shoo, boy. Shoo.”

            Seth’s ringside laughter rang through the entire arena. I grinned, stepped up to Roode, backing him up across the ring. I never touched him—rules you know—but I certain got into his face.

            “C’mon, Natty!” I shouted around his bulk. “Come get some!”

            She burst out of the corner with a roar. Bobby barely got out of her way before she slammed into me. We hit the mat, a tangle of flying fists and flailing legs. She nearly bounced my head against the canvas. After what seemed like hours, she rolled away only to get to her feet and step through my legs, wrapping me up in the Sharpshooter. Once she rolled me onto my stomach, I couldn’t help but scream.

            I’d been in pain before. A thousand different kinds of agony. Bruised. Broken. Beaten. Nearly sidelined. But the unbearable fire that burned through my knees and into my lower back made me cry out.

            My fingers clutched at my hair. I writhed, only to find that it made the agony worse. I tried to drag myself to the ropes. Dean’s voice rang out in my ears. Seth’s face turned blurry at ringside. Roman’s shouts in Samoan and English roared through me.

            Shame.

            Guilt.

            Terrible pain.

            Open palm. Screaming. _Slap. Slap. Slap._

Tap. Out.

            Tears burned down my face as the feeling ran back into my knees, my back, my feet. As the realization that I’d lost this for us. That I’d given in, tapped out.

            I was the Women’s Champion and I tapped out.

            Rolled onto my back, pulled myself up into a sitting position. Pins and needles ran through my right knee and up into my back. Dean appeared behind me, hand out to help me to my feet. Roman and Seth weren’t far behind.

            I couldn’t put weight on my right leg just yet. Dean hooked my arm over his shoulder, helped me stand steady. Seth put my title in my hands.

            “Natty!” I called to where she stood not far away. She turned, panting. Dean helped me limp into the middle of the ring. Natty joined us.

            We didn’t need a mic for the fans to know what I said. I held the title in one hand, using that forefinger to point at her, then at myself. With a grin, I held the title up. _You. Me. This._


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

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            This was it. TLC. Ronda Rousey was getting her shot at the title in a ladder match. Choreographed or not, I was nervous. The rest of the Hounds weren’t going to be with me since they had a full TLC match with Drew, Dolph, and Braun later. It didn’t feel the same knowing that I was going out there all alone.

            It felt off… almost as if there was something heavy waiting in the air. It made me uneasy as I waited in gorilla, listening for the moment that my music began. A knot started in my stomach, one that I hoped would disappear by the time I got to the ring.

 

            Twenty minutes into the match, it seemed that the knot in my gut had disappeared. Ronda and I traded blow for blow. Ladders littered the ring, the largest of them set up in the middle beneath the Raw Women’s title. All I had to do was incapacitate Ronda long enough that I could climb the ladder and get my hands on my title. That’s the way it was supposed to go.

            Ronda lay knocked out on the apron. I crawled to the ladder, used the rungs to drag myself to my feet. Silently, I counted the steps, measuring my movement, knowing that I had to give Ronda enough time to get back to her feet, to drag me off the ladder. Halfway up, I stopped, making a show of trying to catch my breath.

            Fingers around my ankle. Pulled out. Hard yank. Long fall.

            A split second to notice something was off. Ronda hadn’t pulled me out far enough.

            Before I could change my position, my chin hit the bottom step of the ladder. Lightning pain shot through my neck as it snapped backward. Spots danced in my vision. My head banged against the side of the ladder as I landed, the world going black around me.

 

            Hazy memories. Flashes of light like a dark night on the highway. The strange sensation of pain and nothing—the almost-gone of pins and needles in a numb limb. Jostle. Sway. Sleep.

 

            Slow. Heavy lids, eyes that didn’t want to open. Buzzing fluorescent lights dimmed over my head. White ceiling tiles and silver crisscross lattice. Metal track. Hanging curtain with mesh at the top. Beeping, getting louder, faster. Air rushing out of the room. A weight sitting on my chest. Choking, gagging.

            “Hey! We need some help!” The voice was familiar, deep and gruff in a way that demanded attention. It faded away, the words getting harder to distinguish as each second passed.

            “Llane, shhh. Calm down.” Another voice, as familiar as the first. This one smooth, the edges a little rough. “It’s okay.”

            I blinked, tried to turn to see who was speaking. My brain screamed the command—it was so easy, just a little rotation of my chin—but it felt like nothing was happening. It was then that I felt the brace wrapped around my throat, cradling my chin and the back of my head.

            The beeping accelerated, the shrill mechanical screeching setting my nerves on edge. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs wouldn’t inflate. My body couldn’t get anything in. The panic rose. I knew I was going to vomit.

            A face appeared in my vision. Faint ginger hair, bright blue eyes. “Please, Llane. Calm down. Relax. Please.” Those blue eyes filled with tears.

            Squeaking. The heavy rush of feet. I couldn’t breathe. I was choking.

            Faces. Voices. Hands touching me in places I could feel and those I couldn’t. Instructions I tried to follow.

            It took the doctors five minutes to calm me enough to remove the breathing tube that they’d put in. When they did, I thought they’d ripped my throat into hamburger. Tears burned down my cheeks as oxygen rushed into my lungs. The bed moved, folding me slowly up into a sitting position.

            The Hounds came into view. Roman leaned against the wall at the end of the bed, his arms crossed over his chest and a worried expression on his face. A glance to my left revealed Dean, his face twisted up as he tried to keep the tears in his blue eyes from falling. To the right, Seth, who wasn’t even trying to hide it.

            “What… happened?” I asked, my voice coming out raspy. Pain lanced through my vocal cords as I spoke. I swore there was blood running down the inside of my throat.

            Silence filled the room. My eyes ached as I glanced back and forth between the three of them. Seth opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes. Roman tried next, but he couldn’t get the words out. His face was pale, eyes worried. My gaze landed on Dean. I knew my expression was pleading. And somehow, in this moment, all of us were relying on him to be strong.

            Dean moved to the side of the bed so that I could see him clearly. One hand brushed hair off my forehead. Another wrapped around my wrist.

            “There was an accident during your match. Do you remember anything?” His eyes were a dark blue—a hue that made my heart skip a beat in fear.

            I tried to think, to sort through images that were blurred and hidden. Just the effort made my head throb in a way that turned my stomach. It became hard to breathe again. Tamping down the vomit that was crawling up my throat became a monumental task.

            The sound that Dean made as he moved closer was enough to break my heart. I saw the tears rolling down his face, even as he clenched his jaw to try to hold it together. I felt the warmth of his palm against the top of my head, his fingers moving gently through the strands.

            It was then that I realized I couldn’t feel his hand on my wrist.

            “What happened? Dean?”

            He leaned forward, brushed a kiss along my forehead. His fingertips trembled against my scalp. “Ronda messed up. You fell and hurt your neck. Llane…”

            My eyes moved from his, shifted to Roman’s at the end of the bed. His black gaze looked to the floor. Seth wouldn’t look me square either, but his face was bright red with the tears that settled on his cheeks.

            “I can’t feel anything.” My voice broke on the words.

            Everything I’d worked for. My entire career went down the drain. One neck injury was enough, even if it had been surgically repaired.

            There was no coming back from a second. Not like this.

            “It might not be permanent,” Dean murmured against my hair.

            I was suddenly devoid of tears. Ice crept along the edges of my soul.

            It was over.

            All of it.

            My eyes fell on Seth, the man I loved. The man who loved wrestling more than anything else in the world.

            The man who couldn’t even look me in the eye now.

            I pushed down crazed laughter. It was all over.

            Ronda had ended my career. And any shot I had at having a happy life.  


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

_(GIF owned by stellarollins on Tumblr)_

            The room was dark, quiet. Lonely wasn’t quite the word for it. It was being caught up in my own head without any way to get away. It was feeling helpless, empty.

            I could do nothing more than stare up at the ceiling, counting the spots in the tiles for the millionth time. It was exhausting, and I truly had spent most of the past forty-eight hours sleeping. Yet there was a bone-deep weariness that wouldn’t go away. Perhaps it was the sadness that had crept into every corner of my being. Perhaps it was the desperation for some escape from the prison of my own body.

            Dean slept in the chair at the side of my bed. It was impossible to see, but I knew he was there. His soft, snuffling snores were the only soothing thing about the room. My heart ached knowing he was there. Part of me was grateful that he hadn’t gone, that he had settled himself into the raging storm and planted himself as my center in the eye. And yet I hated that he had taken the weight of that center on his shoulders.

            I squeezed my eyes shut, felt tears burn hot and fast down into my hair. One split second and I’d lost everything.

            When Carl and Hannah came, I’d beg them to take me back to North Carolina… to spirt me away in the middle of the night… to help me spare the Hounds the burden of who I had become. Then they could go on with their lives.

           

            Waking up was an agony that was more than physical. It was the realization once again that I was different, broken. It was taking a horror-filled inventory of limbs that could no longer be felt, of pain that was near constant in the body I could sense. It was a rushing wave of memory, the understanding that it hadn’t been a nightmare. That it was real.

            Forever.

            Doctors came and went. There were CAT scans, MRIs, X-rays, blood tests… a thousand pokes and prods and scans and pictures. Nurses took care of the things that I no longer had the power to, fanning the flame of shame. I cried whenever they showed up, reminded anew of how even the choice of movement had been stripped from me.

            “Hey, dollface,” Dean said as his face appeared above me. He looked bleary eyed, like he was running on two hours of sleep and twelve cups of coffee. “Renee sent you something.”

            He held out a Tupperware bowl, the top dripping with condensation. Inside sloshed a hearty-looking soup. He smiled sideways as he stepped away, pulling the tray over my bed to set out the food. Dean kept up a quiet stream of chatter while he worked. His voice was light, but I could sense the strain in it.

            I bit my lip, doing my best to shut down the tears that boiled like acid in my eyes. I didn’t want him to see how truly broken I was. He deserved more than to have another burden added to his shoulders.

            “Homemade vegetable soup,” he said with a flourish. “The nurses argued with me for half an hour, but I told ‘em you were gettin’ some real food in this place.”

            Dean pulled a cloth napkin from the bag and draped it over my lap. Then he took the remote and started to slowly raise my bed until I was sitting up. As soon as the lid popped off the bowl, my mouth started to water. My stomach growled.

            “See,” Dean said, grinning. “I told ‘em you needed some real fucking food, dollface. They’re starvin’ you.”

            As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Dean scooped up some of the soup in a spoon and slowly brought it to my mouth. The corner of his mouth was turned up a little in a faint smile, but there was something strained about it.

            Shards of glass spread through my chest. It was heat and ice and an agonizing sharpness that reminded me of how numb the rest of my body was. My heart chipped away. Piece by piece.

            “Dean,” I whispered softly, blinking away the tears that gathered on my lashes. “Stop. Stop, please.”

            He looked between me and the spoon that hovered over the bowl. “Too hot?” He brought the spoon up, took a quick sip of the broth.

            “Why are you doing this?”

            I watched a curtain fall behind his gaze. Happy-go-lucky Dean gave way to a stoic man that was a stranger to me. Plastic clattered against wood.

            “Doing what?”

            Sniffle. Breathe. Wheeze instead. It felt as if the razor edges of my heart were slicing through my diaphragm.

            Silence stretched out, the sound of my labored breath becoming louder with each passing second. A furrow creased the space between Dean’s brows. He moved with a fluid motion despite the panic that seemed to build in his eyes. With one hand, he pressed the nurse call button on my bed. With the other, he moved the tray out of the way without spilling a drop.

            The squeak of shoes heralded the arrival of Mandy, my day nurse. She was pretty and reminded me of my brother Georgie’s wife. Before she could speak, Dean crossed the room and whispered something feverishly into her ear.

            A split second passed. Distant pressure the center of my chest. A mad thought that I could feel it. Or was it just because I could see it happening?

            Whirlwind. Pinpricks of pain that tore a whimper from my throat. Terror at what was happening, at the look of utter helplessness in Dean’s face.

            People rushed in and out. My world fell off its axis. Dean was pushed into the corner, looking as helpless as I felt.

           

            I awoke in an entirely different room. A different brace around my neck. Scratchy fabric across my forehead. Scalding heat burning through my chest and arms. The pain was so overwhelming that I nearly wished for the numbness.

            “It’s about time, _itiiti_ ,” Roman said from somewhere nearby. “You’ve been out for hours.”

            The attempt to turn toward the sound of his voice was met with something like a million volts through the back of my neck. I cried out before I’d even realized it.

            “Don’t try to move. They’ve got you strapped down.” His voice moved closer. A shadow preceded the appearance of his familiar face above me. His black hair was slicked back and tied back in a bun. Dark circles framed his even darker eyes. “You came out of surgery for a while.”

            “Surgery?” My voice came out raspy. A cough nearly made me gag, blood running down the back of my throat.

            Roman crossed his arms over his chest. “Apparently you were having trouble breathing or something. But your fingers were twitching Dean said. He’s out talking with the surgeon and Seth.”

            I felt sick at the thought of Seth seeing me like this again. The world had passed me by—I had no idea what day it was or where they should have been. All I knew was that it certainly wasn’t here.

            “How?”

            A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “ _Itiiti_ , we’ve got this place handled. _Someone_ put it out there that Hunter’s your dad, Rollins is your husband, and Dean and I are your brothers. Wouldn’t surprise me if Hunter pulled all that together himself so we could stay with you.”

            “Why…” I took a breath, trying to think. “Why are you here?”

            The smile disappeared. He reached out to touch me but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he gripped the railing on the side of the bed. “Because you belong to us.”

            Finite.

            Firm.

            A universal truth.


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

  

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          “I knew something like this was going to happen,” Hannah said as she sat on the edge of my hospital bed. Her fingers were tucked against my palm, squeezing firmly. “I told your father this whole thing was a bad idea, but he wouldn’t hear of it.”

            I’d been in the hospital for close to two weeks, the feeling in my arms and chest slowly coming back into being. There had been no change on anything from the waist down, but the surgery had been able to relieve some of the swelling and damage the fall had caused. While the numbness had faded, pain had taken its place. It was like hot needles writhing beneath my skin and deep within my muscles.

            I wanted to tell her that it was a fluke, that things like this rarely happened. It had been a one in a million accident that could never have been predicted. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

            All I could do was whisper that I wanted to go home.

 

            “Knock knock,” someone said from the door of my hospital room. Hunter’s face peeked around the corner. “Up for a visit?”

            I smiled, even though I was exhausted to my bones. “Come on in.”

            He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. “You look good.”

            I rolled my eyes. “I look like shit. But thanks.”

            Hunter perched on the edge of the bed, trying not to stare. “Do you know when they’re going to release you?”

            “They go back and forth. But whenever they release me…” I sighed, closed my eyes, tried to get myself together. “When they do, I’m going back to North Carolina.”

            His brow furrowed. “How does Seth feel about that?”

            “I haven’t told him. I haven’t told anyone except for Hannah and Carl.” I took a deep breath. “And I need you to do me a favor, Hunter.”

            “Llane… you know I’ll do whatever I can to help. What do you need?”

            I hated myself for asking this of him. I knew I was putting him in a position that was unforgivable. But I knew that he was the one who would understand.

            “I’m not telling them when I leave.” Tears slipped down my cheek. “Keep them busy. Don’t let them dwell on it. And don’t tell them that you know where I’ve gone.”

            “Llane,” Hunter said firmly. “You know that won’t happen—regardless of how busy I make their schedule. None of them will let you just disappear. Seth will tear the world apart for you. So will Roman. And Dean… he’ll lose his mind with worry.”

            The two of us sat in silence, me crying over this thing that threatened to splinter the Hounds and Hunter doing his best to talk me out of it. It was such a strange thing that I worried less about what happened to me and more about keeping the three of them together at all costs.

 

            “It’s time to go home,” Hannah said as Carl slowly pushed my wheelchair down the hallway. “Did you call the boys?”

            I nodded, feeling the lie burn like poison down my throat. The truth was that only Hunter knew I was being released. I’d begged him to keep quiet as long as he could. I knew that they would find out eventually, but I hoped to get at least a few days’ head start so that I could burrow into my old life so deep that I couldn’t be removed.

            We were near the entrance when they walked in. There was no mistaking the stalking strut that carried them through the automatic doors. Even in street clothes, they were intimidating and breathtaking. They fell into formation—Roman taking point with Seth on his left, Dean on the right. None of them seemed entirely pleased, but their eyes were ringed with red.

            “ _Itiiti_ ,” Roman said, his voice edged with gruffness. “You thought you could sneak out on us, huh?”

            Seth’s face screwed up as if he were trying to hold back further tears. His dark eyes were pitiful as he watched me. Dean crossed in front of Roman, loomed over me until I had to crane my neck to look up at him. His blue eyes were on fire.

            “Don’t even think about lying to us, dollface,” he said furiously. “You’ve got to be out of your mind if you think we’re letting you go.”

            Hannah let out a gasp, her attention shooting between Dean and me. Her hand settled on my shoulder. “Oh, Llanie…”

            Tears. Aching in my chest. An overwhelming sense of loss and uncertainty.

            “Hunter?”

            Dean nodded, leaning down and bracing himself on the arms of my chair. “Why?”

            I glanced away, desperate to get out from beneath his cutting gaze. My eyes landed on Seth, guilt flooding my gut like bile. Dean’s fingers gently gripped my chin, turned my attention back to him.

            “Why, Llane?” he asked again, something breaking in his voice.

            The dam broke, tears streaming down my face. I ached with the effort of trying to breathe through the sobs.

            “Because my career is over. And I won’t be a burden to you.” I tore myself away, met Seth’s gaze. “Especially not you, Colby.”

            He shattered. Dean had barely stepped out of the way when Seth hit his knees in front of me. I winced, worried about his knee on the hard floor. His fingers reached for me, brushed against my hair, cradled my face between roughened palms.

            “Llane, please…” His eyes searched my face. “You are _never_ going to be a burden. I don’t care what happens.”

            I wrapped my fingers around his wrists, unsure whether I wanted to draw him closer or push him away. He didn’t know what he was saying. “Wrestling is your life. This is what you love more than anything else. I won’t ask you to give one piece of it up to take care of a broken person.”

            Seth’s face reddened as he wiped angrily at the tears pooling in his eyes. “So you’re not even giving me the choice?”

            My thumbs brushed against his cheeks, came away wet. “I’m trying to protect you.”

            “He’s got a point, _itiiti_. As much as you fight for the ability to make your own choices, you’re real quick to take this one from us.”

            “What are you going to do, Ro? You going to trade me around on a schedule? You going to clean me up because I sure as hell can’t do it myself. You going to dress me? Take me to PT?” I couldn’t tell whether I was angry or ashamed or some combination of that and more.

            The three of them knelt around me. Carl and Hannah backed away, even as I wished they didn’t. I was all at once overwhelmed and deeply comforted by their closeness. It was heat and energy and electricity that I swore I could feel throughout my veins.

            “You belong to us, Llane Black,” Dean said firmly. He pressed his forehead against my shoulder. “You are ours, and we’ll be damned if you have to do this alone.”

            Roman brushed a strand of hair back from my face, his fingers straying against my cheek. “Don’t give up on us, because we aren’t giving up on you. Do you trust us?”

            “Do you love us?” Seth’s voice cracked, his unasked question breaking my heart. _Do you still love me? Do you still want me?_

            “Of course I do,” I said with every ounce of certainty in my soul.

            Roman nodded, as if that settled the entire matter. He stood and pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the top of my head. “Then let’s get you home.”


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

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            Twinkling lights wound around a Christmas tree. The scent of pine and sap filled the house, making my nose itch. Seth rifled through a plastic tub, searching out ornaments that his mother had dropped off.

            “Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Seth muttered under his breath. His hair was tied back in a knot at the base of his skull. Silver tinsel stuck to his black tee.

            I watched from my place on the sofa. The brown leather had been covered with blankets and towels, lined over with bed pads from the hospital. Pillows were piled up around me, not quite certain if they were there for comfort or to keep me upright. Kevin curled up in my unfeeling lap, snuffling softly as if he realized something was wrong.

            Pain had become a constant companion. I ached from the top of my head to the bottom of my ribs. Everything below was still a heavy numbness that refused to dissipate. The medication I’d been given blunted the edges of the agony, but failed to take it away entirely. Most movement was uncomfortable. Being touched was torture.

            It had only been a week, and I could tell Seth was growing frustrated and miserable. The rift between us seemed to grow wider every moment.

            Carl had gone back home to North Carolina. Hannah had taken up Seth’s offer to stay with me in Davenport for a while. While he did the heavy lifting, Hannah was my nursemaid—doing more than any adoptive parent should ever have to do. Shame weighed heavily on my shoulders, the load expanding with every act of assistance.

            “Why are you putting up a tree at all?” I asked, trying not to seem callous. “You’re going to be here for a week.”

            He looked up, bruise-like shadows beneath his brown eyes. “Because it’s Christmas, Llane. And we’re here together—you, me, your mom—for the first time. Is it so wrong to want a little bit of cheer?”

            I bit my lip, desperate to hold back the waspish response that bubbled on my tongue. A dark fog had settled over the house since we’d returned, and I knew I was the one who had brought it.

            “What?” he huffed, straightening up with his hands on his hips. “Say whatever it is.”

            _I will not cry in front of him_ , I swore. There had been enough tears in my life over the past few weeks. I cried myself to sleep each night, stifling the sobs in my pillow as Seth worked in his office and Hannah cleaned up from whatever mess I’d made. If they heard, neither of them mentioned it the next morning.

            “It’s nothing. I’m just… I’m crabby today.”

            Seth crossed the room, sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. His hands reached for me, drew back when Kevin growled protectively. “It’s our first Christmas together, Llane. I know things haven’t gone the way we wanted. And I know that you’ve got to be miserable and pissed as hell.”

            He went quiet, eyes losing focus as he stared at a spot over my shoulder. Time stretched, took on solid form, settled around me like a strangling vine.

            “If you’re not happy here, I’m not going to force you to stay. As much as I want you with me, I want you to be happy—even if that’s without me.”

            Blink. Again. So rapidly that the world passed by in a strobe light sequence.

            _Don’t cry_.

            _Not in front of him. Not Colby. Anyone but him._

            He stood, leaned forward, cradled the back of my head in his hand as he kissed the top of my head. Then he slipped away down the hall, the door of his study closing quietly.

            The sadness came, tearing through me, shredding my insides to ribbons, punching my chest open. It was nearly impossible to breathe. This was no longer about the loss of a life I’d loved. There would be no more championships, shouting fans, tee-shirts or posterboard signs. Wrestling was forever lost to me, and now the very thing that terrified me the most was becoming reality.

            Seth was pulling away.

 

            “Don’t give up on him, Llanie,” Hannah said as she brushed and braided my hair. Her hands were gentle, reminding me of the times she’d styled my hair when I first came to them. She’d said it was because she had always wanted to be a stylist. Carl told me it was because she had always wanted a daughter.

            “This is why I didn’t want them to know. Why I just wanted to go home,” I whispered. “It’s exactly what I didn’t want to happen.”

            Hannah ran her fingers through my hair, tutting at how the red had started to fade. “This hasn’t been easy on him either, Lanie. He’s trying. You have to believe that.”

            “He shouldn’t have to do this.” It was hard to look at myself in the mirror. The weight had already started to melt off since I’d been eating less and less. My eyes seemed dull and sunken. “None of them—none of _you_ —should. There are places I could go that are designed to care for people like me.”

            “No,” Hannah said with venom. “You are not going to spend the rest of your life in some nursing home alone. You deserve more of a life than that.”

            I wiped at the tears collecting against my lashes. “The rest of you deserve a life without having to care for me.”

            Hannah stood up, kissed the side of my head. “What kind of life would we have without you? I don’t think you know how much you mean to us, Llane. Since the moment you came into our lives. I know those boys love you desperately—each in their own way. And that man in the other room…”

            She paused, sniffling against her own tears. I watched her in the mirror, saw her take several measured breaths. “That man would die for you. I don’t think you know how much he adores you. You could ask him for the moon, and he’d break his back trying to bring it back for you.”

            “Momma…” The word came out small, fragile. It wasn’t often that I called her anything other than her name, but in that moment, I felt horribly lost. The weight of the future that bore down on me was too much. The ache that settled in my heart at how I had turned Seth’s world upside down was too painful to carry alone. Acidic tears cut rivulets down my cheeks.


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

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            Hannah and I sat side by side on the sofa in Davenport. She’d made my favorite deep winter chili for dinner. Kevin curled in my lap, trying to get his nose into the mug like he did when Seth gave him coffee. Prince had taken a liking to Hannah and settled against her side.

            “You sure about this, baby?” Hannah asked, glancing over at me with the remote in her hand.

            I took a deep breath, nodded. “I’ve got to get used to it somehow.”

            She clicked the television on, surfing quickly through the channels until she found USA. The show was just beginning. Camera panned out over the crowd—taking in the fans who screamed and shouted. Here and there I saw the Shield shirts with my fist on them. A few had _Lunatic Llane_ and _Be Unpredictable_ gear. There were posterboard signs bearing get well messages.

            “Oh,” Hannah gasped beside me. From the corner of my eye, I saw her wipe away tears.

            The camera settled in on the announce table. Corey, Michael, and Renee stood with their backs to the ring.

            “Good evening. We come to you tonight from Jacksonville, Florida, for Monday Night Raw,” Michael Cole said in his trademark voice. “We kick off the show tonight with the commissioner, Stephanie McMahon.”

            Stephanie’s music hit and a wave of cheers and boos ran through the arena. Once she got to the ring, I could see the table set up in the middle—the Women’s Championship settled amongst red velvet. Stephanie took a microphone and paced the middle of the ring.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, I come to you tonight with a heavy heart. Due to a freak accident at the TLC pay-per-view, your Women’s Champion, Llane Black will be unable to fulfill her duties due to injury. For that reason, I am here on her behalf tonight to officially vacate the Raw Women’s Championship.”

            Static spilled from the speakers. _Sierra. Hotel. India. Echo. Lima. Delta._ Spotlight searched the arena, found them at the top concourse. They didn’t waste any time. Titles sparkling in the camera flashes, Dean led the way down the steps toward the ring. The three of them looked on edge.

            I smiled when Dean jumped the barricade. It never got old watching him swing his legs over and do his little shoulder shake when he landed. Seth came over behind him, Roman last. They climbed the apron, slipped beneath the ropes.

            Stephanie looked between the three of them. The camera backed away when she started speaking to them in low tones, mic held at her side, bitchiness slipping away into real concern. She nodded at something Roman said, handed the mic over to him.

            Seth walked toward the table where the title lay, my plates still on the side. I watched as he tugged his gloves off with his teeth and used his fingers to wiggle the plates off. The camera cut between him and Dean, who had rolled out to pace around the ring. When he noticed the camera man following behind him, Dean snatched him by the shirt and turned him toward the crowd, pointing up to where a group of seven or eight people held up a get-well banner with my name on it.

            “See that, dollface,” Dean said from just off camera. “They’re all over the place. Ain’t nobody forgot about you here.”

            The show cut back to the stationary camera. Roman stood against the ropes, his face a little ashen. He took a breath.

            “We’re not here to cause any trouble for you, Steph. Business is business. But let’s get one thing straight.” Roman turned, glanced at Seth holding my title plates in his hands, Dean going in circles around the ring making sure the camera guy got a shot of every person in the audience with my name emblazoned on their gear. “We’re here for Justice.”

            A pop went up from the crowd. Dean slammed his fist down on the steel steps, making Stephanie jump.

            “This isn’t just a broken arm or a concussion that Llane can take some time off and come back from. That woman… the heart and soul of the Shield… may never walk again because of what happened.”

            Silence fell over the arena. It was the first time anyone had said the truth of what happened. Roman didn’t verbally lay the blame at Ronda’s feet, but he didn’t leave much room for interpretation.

            Stephanie stepped forward, whispered something in his ear. For a moment, the world stood still. Dean reappeared at his brothers’ sides, listening to the hushed words. The three of them nodded at one another, seemingly pleased with what had been shared.

            Roman handed Dean the mic. I watched my tag partner lean against the top rope, tapping his first two fingers against the logo. His breath amplified through the arena as he put the mic to his mouth, took it away, brought it back again.

            “See, my dollface is at home right now.” He pointed at the stationary camera, a small smirk turning the corner of his mouth up. “She’s sittin’ there in Davenport with the dogs and her mom—Hi, Hannah—watching this show right now.”

            Dean stalked in the ring. “So whatdya say you let her hear you!”

            The arena erupted so loudly that I could only imagine what it sounded like to be there. I couldn’t help but imagine dust was falling from the rafters.

            The mic got passed off to Seth. He looked at one of the plates in his hand. “You know, guys… Llane should have been here tonight. She should be celebrating in this ring that she was still your Raw Women’s Champion. Instead…”

            He paused, his Shield brothers coming to rest their hands on his shoulders. The three of them stood in solidarity in their grief.

            “Instead, she’s lost her dream. She loves this business. Every superstar in that locker room knows that Llane Black gave her heart and soul each and every time she stepped foot in this ring. And let me promise you this… from this _second_ every single time the Shield steps between those ropes, we aren’t fighting for titles. We aren’t fighting for territory. We aren’t even fighting to defend our yard. We’re fighting for you, Llane.”

            He looked into the stationary camera. His brown eyes glistened. “You are one of us. You are a Hound. And you are ours.”

            The three of them stepped through the ropes, rolled onto the floor. Seth handed one of my side plates to Roman, who tucked it down the front of his tactical vest. He patted the place over his heart before sticking out his fist. Dean and Seth finished the symbol of their brotherhood, then settled the other plate atop their joined fists. The camera zoomed in, held.

            Clapping started somewhere in the crowd. It took a moment for their words to become clear. _Thank you, Llane_. They chanted, clapped, and stomped in time. The words continued even after the three of them disappeared behind the LED board and the camera cut back to the commentary table.

            “We’re all behind you, Llane,” Renee said with a crackle in her voice. “Every step of the way.”

            Hannah reached out, took my hand in hers. Tears streamed down my face, matched only by the torrent from my foster mother.

            “You want me to turn it off, Llanie?” she asked tenderly.

            I shook my head, wiped at my eyes with my other hand. Kevin finally got his nose into the chili, his little pink tongue lapping at the juice. “No. Let’s leave it on.”

            Later, when Roman came out for the main event, one of the plates on his Universal Championship had been replaced with one of mine.


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

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            “Kevin, get out of the way!” I shouted, frustrated. I was doing my best to be more self-sufficient in the weeks since I’d been returned home to Iowa. Hannah was still there, but I tried to avoid asking for help as much as possible.

            The dog planted himself directly in the middle of the narrow hallway, head tilted to the side as he watched me struggle to roll myself back toward the bedroom. I wanted to take a nap, but I was sick of sleeping on that squeaking leather couch. And now Kevin wouldn’t get out of the way.

            Anger spiked in my veins. I hated how useless I felt, how my entire life had been narrowed down to a chair and the four walls of the house in Davenport. I hated being weak. I hated being broken. And as much as I loved him, I really hated that dog just then.

            I locked the brakes on my chair and covered my face with my hands. The sobs came out in a torrent. They snatched the breath from my chest. They sapped the last vestiges of my strength and will. I was quickly losing my grip on reality.

            Somewhere behind me, a door opened and closed. Hannah had taken to bundling up and walking up and down the street in the snow in the evenings. Living where we did in North Carolina, snow wasn’t common—and certainly not the kind that blanketed Davenport without discrimination. She liked being out in it.

            “Kevin, move.”

            My pulse shuddered in my throat. A heavy bag thudded against the floor. Snow-covered boots squeaked across the hardwood. I was stuck in the hallway with no way to turn around, blocked in by two walls, a dog, and Seth.

            I felt him looming somewhere behind me. He snapped his fingers. Kevin’s head darted up, then he slipped to his feet and bopped off into Seth’s office. I drew a shaky breath.

            “Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want him to see me crying. “He doesn’t want to listen to me anymore.”

            His hands rested on the grips of my chair. “I don’t think he’s figured this thing out yet. Seems like you guys haven’t either.” He pointed at scuffs and dings in the baseboards and walls along the hallway.

            I released the brakes, pushing myself forward toward the bedroom and away from him. “That’s me, not Hannah. And I’ll get it fixed.”

            Seth sighed heavily, the sound carrying down the hallway as he followed after me. “That’s not what I meant, Llane.”

            “Fuck,” I swore under my breath as I banged into the bedroom doorframe.

            “Will you let me help you? Please?”

            Three times I tried to get myself turned the right way, to squeeze into the bedroom and away from his pity. Every time I failed. Instead, I succeeded only in getting myself wedged and frustrated.

            “Fine.” I let go of the wheels and cradled my forehead in my hands. I didn’t know what to do with this kind of sheer frustration and pent up aggression. Before, I would have left it all in the ring or the gym. Now, it simply festered.

            Seth carefully maneuvered me into the bedroom. Once I was over the threshold, he let go as if the chair burned him. I took over, moving toward the bed, following the widened path that Hannah had made.

            “Llane…” Seth’s voice came from the doorway. I glanced back, saw him hover just on the other side of the threshold. As if he were afraid to come into his own bedroom. “Are we ever going to talk about what’s happening?”

            “What do you want me to say? Isn’t it obvious what’s happening?” I sank into my chair, frustration and anger and shame bubbling over.

            He looked away, arms folded across his chest. “I mean with us. And you know that. You’ve been pushing me away—all of us—ever since the accident.”

            “All of _you?_ ” My voice came out higher than I expected. “You must be talking about Seth, Tyler, and Colby. Because they’re the only ones who don’t really give a shit.”

            “ _I_ don’t give a shit? That’s what you think?”

            “Yes! That’s what I think!” I swiped at angry tears. “ _Dean_ calls! _Roman_ calls! _Renee_ calls! _Finn_ calls! _Bayley_ calls! _Sasha_ calls! _Becky_ calls! But you can’t find your goddamn phone to send me a text message more than twice a week!”

            Seth stepped into the room, his eyes crackling with fire deep within them. “I’m trying, Llane.” He pointed toward the door, his voice getting louder with every word. “You tried to sneak out of the hospital. You _clearly_ didn’t want to be here. You’ve shut me out since the _second_ you woke up in the hospital!”

            He’d stalked across the room, stood alone on the other side of the bed. He leaned down, fists pressed into the mattress. “I’ve tried to give you space. To let you make your choices and come to me when you wanted me.”

            “I don’t _want_ space!” I screamed, slamming my palms into the arms of my chair. Fire lashed along my spine, wrapped around the base of my skull. “I need… I just need a reason to keep breathing!”

            He opened his mouth, an angry remark on the tip of his tongue. But whatever it had been, it died away when my words finally hit him. Seth went quiet and slipped around the end of the bed, stumbling to his knees at my feet. He reached for me, hesitated.

            “I’m so scared. And I’m so alone,” I whispered.

            Seth gathered me into his arms, sweeping me gently from my chair. He held me against his chest as he sank onto the floor.

            “You’re not alone, Llane.” His lips brushed the side of my head. “I won’t let you feel alone anymore. I promise.”

            I let him cradle me. My eyes closed. It had been so long since he had touched me with anything other than fear. He brushed his fingertips gently up and down my arm as he murmured against my hair. I bit the inside of my lip, determined to never let him see the pain that just being in his arms caused me.

            Rough fingers scraped against my neck. Gathered my hair and swept it out of the way. Smooth thumbnail grazing the edges of my surgery scar.

            His forehead settled against my temple. I felt the heat of his tears and his breath on my cheek.

            “I didn’t know,” he murmured over and over.

            “I didn’t want you to,” I replied just as softly.

            “Why? Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

            “Because you love wrestling more than anything in the world. And I refuse to take that from you.” My breaths went shallow, trying to push down the pain that tore through my chest.

            Seth turned my head to face him, his fingers gentle on my chin. “Not more than you. I can lose everything, but not you.”


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

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            The days turned to weeks. The weeks to months. The New Year came and went. I watched the Royal Rumble from my bed in Iowa, where the Hounds successfully defended their titles and Bayley won a fatal four way to win the Women’s Championship.

            Elimination Chamber, where Ruby and Sarah won the Women’s Tag Titles and Bayley beat Alexa to keep her belt. Seth nearly lost his Intercontinental Championship to Finn, but interference from Baron Corbin ended the match without a title change.

            Fastlane. Seth and Dean lost their tag titles to Dash and Dawson. Roman lasted an hour in a gauntlet match, barely keeping his Universal Championship.

            Wrestlemania drew closer. Roman would face Dean in the main event for the Universal Championship, a fight that both were excited about. Seth would defend his Intercontinental Championship—the title he’d held for over a year—against Drew. Becky was challenging Bayley, two of the Four Horsewomen battling over the Raw title.

 

            April in Iowa was different from the springs I’d known in North Carolina. It was still cold, frost on the windows early in the morning. Even when the sun had climbed high in the sky, it was too crisp outside to stay out for long. As difficult as it was, every day I let Hannah—or Bran or Georgie or one of their wives when they came to give my foster mother a hand—bundle me up and we would go out into the bright Midwestern sun. Kevin and Prince went along, sometimes riding in my lap, more often running along beside on a leash.

            My doctors were happy with my progress, although none of them thought I would be able to walk again. There was physical therapy twice a week, exercises at home every day. Sometimes I thought I could feel my hips or the top of my thighs, other times I was sure that my sensation stopped at my navel.

 

            “Will you come?” Seth asked, his lips pressed against the back of my neck. His arms were tucked around me, holding me against his chest.

            I blinked, slipping into a place in my thoughts where I could tune out the ever-present pain of being touched. Seth was always gentle, even in the dead of night when he was sleeping like a rock. As if there was some part of him that was still conscious, still careful with me.

            “You want me backstage?” I was proud of the strength in my voice. I had gotten good at not betraying how much discomfort I was in all the time.

            “We,” he said, palm rubbing featherlight circles on my stomach. “All three of us. We want you there. Ringside.”

            Adrenaline flooded my system, triggering panic. The thought of being in front of all those people in my chair… it made me nauseous. “Seth… I don’t… I can’t…”

            He kissed the fading line of my scar, murmuring soothingly. “We can talk about it later. In the morning. Next week. You don’t have decide tonight.”

            I settled in to the feeling of his mouth against my skin. More than the pain, there was a constant feeling of loss running through me. I missed being in Seth’s arms. I missed having his fingers brushing along my skin. I missed how it felt when he hovered over me, skin-on-skin, the heat of his body and the way he knew every inch of me.

            But those days were gone. And I couldn’t help but wonder how it would all end.

            “Will you tell me the truth if I ask you something?”

            He stirred behind me, leaning up on his elbow. “Yes. What is it?”

            “Have you…” I took a breath, feeling the terror build in my chest. “I haven’t… I can’t give you the things… I can’t feel…”

            The bed dipped and sprang back as Seth got up. He appeared in front of me, a sad smile on his lips. “I have not—and I _will_ not—do that to you. Not because of what happened to you, but because I love you. Because you are the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. Because the center of my world is you, whether or not we ever have sex again.”

            He brushed the hair back behind my ear. “Besides,” he chuckled, “that’s what I have a hand for.”

            I couldn’t help but smile, even if it was a slightly sad one. “I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be.” He kissed my forehead, lingered there. “I love you. Just don’t get jealous.”

            He wriggled his right hand at me.

            Laughter bubbled out of me. I felt light for the first time in months.

 

            “Dollface!” Dean rushed at me, arms outstretched, dimples popped on his cheeks. “You look good.”

            He wrapped me in a firm hug, kissing the side of my head. I grinned, incredibly happy to see him. “I’ve gained ten pounds.”

            Dean dropped his bag on the floor and plopped down on top of it, elbows propped on his knees. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, blue eyes sparkling. “Eh, you still look good to me.”

            “Where’s _uce_?” Seth asked as he appeared from the hallway. “Wasn’t he coming with you?”

            As if he’d been summoned, the front door opened. Roman stood on the threshold, bags on the ground behind him, arms burdened with a bouquet of flowers and balloons. “ _O fea oi ai loʻu uso laitiiti?_ ”

            _Where is my little sister?_

            Heat burned through me, the radiant feel of having the anchor of my being nearby. My grin got wider. “ _O iinei_ ,” I shouted back. _Here!_

            Dean’s brows met his hairline. “The fuck you learn Samoan, dollface?”

            Roman sat his gifts on the coffee table and smiled at me. His black eyes glittered like obsidian, warmth radiating from him like always. “I taught her that a long time ago,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through me. It felt like coming home. “Just in case we ever got separated by fans or something.”

            He towered over me, hands on his hips. His smile was indulgent. “How’re you feeling, _itiiti_?”

            “About half of my old self,” I shot back. I couldn’t describe how wonderful it felt to have them all there. It was the first time since they’d settled me in after leaving the hospital. Roman chuckled, leaning over and kissing the top of my head.

            Seth leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze skipped between me, Dean, and Roman. He gave a little nod, a soft smile. “This is the best mood she’s been in for months. You guys gotta visit more often.”

            Roman pulled a chair over, plopped down in it. Dean grinned up from his spot on the floor. I was suddenly thrown back to my first days with them—riding in the back of that SUV with my head in Seth’s lap, Ro in the driver’s seat, Dean singing goofy songs from the passenger’s side. I remembered how they had woven themselves into my life without any effort. They just became the warp and weft of my life—the essential fiber that kept my life together. My anchor, my center, my gravity.

            For the first time in months, I felt whole. I felt strong.

            “So who’s paying for my Wrestlemania seat?”


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

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            It wasn’t how I thought I would spend my first Wrestlemania. There was always the thought in the back of my mind—I could have been in a main event… I could be there on the grandest stage of them all in front of millions of people. Instead, I was stuck in a wheelchair, unable to feel anything below my navel, terrified of being seen by the WWE Universe.

            “Why did I let you guys talk me into this?” I murmured as we sat in the hotel room I shared with Seth before the Hall of Fame ceremony. The three of them were dressed in perfectly tailored suits, looking cleaned up and sharp.

            Dean had a cream garment bag hooked onto his fingers and draped over his shoulder. His blue eyes were shining with mischief. “Because you love us. And you secretly really want to get all prettied up.”

            Roman slapped him in the chest with the back of his hand so hard that he grunted. “Not that you aren’t beautiful already, _itiiti_. Dean meant…”

            I smiled softly. “I know what he meant, Ro. I just… it’s been five months since I’ve been seen. And there’s this thing…” I gestured to my chair, feeling self-conscious.

            The thought of being anywhere near the cameras tonight… when everyone was being dissected for what they were wearing and how they looked. Next to women like Lana, Sasha, Naomi, Mandy, Alexa, Becky… there was no way that I would compare to them with this hunk of metal beneath me.

            Grey blurred on the edges of my vision. A high-pitched squeal rang in my ears. The world hovered in and out of view, slid sideways. Angry heat burned into me, momentarily overpowering the constant buzz of pain that followed me.

            Something heavy hit the floor. Gentle hands gripped my own, squeezing tightly. Voices came from far away. The soft cadence of Samoan washed over me. A hand cradled the back of my head, thumb brushing gently against my scalp. Another rested against my cheek.

            The world came into focus in fits and starts. Ro crouched in front of me, holding my hands and speaking soothingly. _Where is my little sister_ , he asked in Samoan. _Where is my little sister?_ Dean stood to my left, his hand on my head grounding me to my center. Seth’s fingers brushed my cheek, pulling me back into orbit.

            “ _O iinei_ ,” I whispered as my voice awoke.

            They let out a collective sigh. Roman stood up, not caring that there were wrinkles in his suit. Seth unbuttoned his jacket, started stripping it off. “You two have a main event match tomorrow. You go to the ceremony. I’ll give Hunter and Stephanie a call, let them know I can’t make it.”

            I reached for his hand, squeezed it feebly. “No,” I said firmly. “Go to the ceremony. You’re the Intercontinental Champion, Seth. I promise you, I’ll be fine for a few hours.”

            His dark eyes watched me carefully, as if he was measuring the truthfulness of the statement. He brushed his thumb along the line of my jaw. “I’ll keep my phone on me. If you need anything, just call me. And… your mom is just down the hall, okay?”

            I smiled, wrapped my fingers gently around his wrist. “I know. And don’t forget that I love you.”

            Seth leaned down, kissed me softly on the lips. “I love you too, Llane. Always.”

 

            Electricity crackled in the air. The arena was still far from full. Those with front row seats were filing in, fresh from their meet-and-greets backstage. An hour before the show, the superstars started warming up, getting in the zone for their matches, making last-minute changes to their gear, going over their entrances one last time. Somewhere back there, the Hounds were getting themselves together, ready to run the yard.

            Hannah and I were ringside near the time-keeper’s area. Space had been cleared out for my chair at the end of a row. My foster mother sat to my left, excitement bright on her face. After everything she’d done for me, it was a wonderful thing to be able to give her this moment.

            “I wish I could have seen you up there, Llanie,” she murmured, squeezing my hand gently. “One day.”

            I smiled faintly. “Yeah, one day.”

 

            Seth’s music filled the arena. It was that heart-thumping, adrenaline spiking base line that had always my pulse quicken. The screen erupted with flames, _burn it down_ screaming from the speakers. Pyro went off, arcing up into the air. Seth appeared at the top of the ramp. His gear pants were red with black swirls that started near his boots and continued up around his calves, behind his knees, and around his thighs. Flames burned along the outside of his hips. The interlocked SR of his logo was on one hip. When the camera swept to the other side, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. My logo was emblazoned in flame on the other side. The vest was designed like the pants, except it was black with red swirls that danced like fire up from his waist over his torso and up his chest.

            He sauntered down the ramp, his Intercontinental Title glittering in the lights. Seeing him like this, in his element with all the confidence of a god assured of his praise, it made my heart swell in my chest. He was breathtaking.

            Up the steel steps. Climb the ropes. Basking in the glory that was his rightful place.

            I knew the moment his eyes landed on me. He jumped down, jogged around the ring. At the barricade, he stopped, eyes bright with adrenaline and pride. Seth gestured to Hannah, grabbed her in a warm hug. They whispered to one another for an instant before he turned to me.

            “Thank you,” he murmured. He stripped off his belt, handed it over to a keeper, and hopped the barricade. He grinned as he cupped my face in his hands, kissed me full on the mouth in front of the cameras and tens of thousands of people. “I love you so much, Llane Black.”

            Heat raced beneath my skin. I couldn’t stop smiling. “I love you, too, Seth. Now go kick ass.”

            He let out a whoop before kissing me again, then climbing back over. As if nothing had happened, Seth took back his title and swept back into the ring, posing on the turnbuckles as his music faded away. Drew’s music hit, and the battle began.

            It was nail biting from start to finish. Seth was fast and strong, there was no doubt about it. But Drew was big, long limbed, and mean. He had no problem with playing dirty and hurting his opponents when it served him. And he wanted nothing more than to take Seth’s title, even while Seth fought with every ounce of his will to keep it.

            Drew grew frustrated when a Glasgow Kiss didn’t fell his opponent. His frustration turned to ferocity when the Claymore wasn’t enough to keep Seth down. Seth dug deep, fighting as if his life depended on it. He used everything in his playbook. Superkicks. Bucklebombs. The Blockbuster. Falcon Arrow. Suicide dives and slingblades. Drew had an answer for every single one. Even the curb stomp wasn’t enough to get a three count.

            Sitting on the bottom rope, gripping his ribs and panting for breath, Seth looked as if there was nothing left in him. Drew was struggling to his feet on the other side of the ring, murder in his eyes.

            “C’mon, Seth!” I shouted, electricity crackling through me. “C’mon!”

            At my side, Hannah started chanting along with me. Her enthusiasm was contagious. I screamed louder.

            In the ring, Seth stood, his face twisted in rage. He stomped hard on the mat. _Burn. It. Down._ It ran through the arena, rumbling so loud that it nearly ruptured the roof. Drew ran at him, straight into a boot. It was over in seconds. Drew’s head bounced against canvas, Seth fell into the pin… _one… two… three_.

            Seth’s music hit, barely audible over the sound of cheers and screams. Hannah let out a wail of praise as he rolled beneath the bottom rope, title clutched against his chest. He staggered to the barricade, sweaty, hair frizzy, but a glorious grin on his face. I rolled forward as far as I could, turned so that he was within reach. For a moment we just looked at each other. Then he leaned over, wrapping me in a deep, bone crushing embrace.


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

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            Main event. It was nearing midnight and I could feel the weariness creeping in on the edges of my consciousness. Adrenaline could carry me only so far, and my stamina wasn’t what it had been before the accident. But Hannah’s joy at being in the arena, seeing everything from right up front, was enough to keep me awake through the rest of the night.

            Dean’s music hit, the insanity of it swelling through the stadium. I grinned, remembering all the times I’d watched him bounce in gorilla before stalking out onto the main stage. When I saw him on the screen, I felt tears well in my eyes. He had on his black leather jacket over a _Lunatic Llane_ t-shirt. My heart melted.

            As soon as he hit the end of the ramp, he jogged around the outside of the ring. His face lit up, dimples popping as he smiled. Laughing, he hopped the barrier.

            “Getting tired yet, dollface?” His eyes were bright, excitement glittering within them.

            “I can make it until you two are done.” I grinned back at him, held out my arms as he wrapped me in a hug. “Love you, Dean.”

            “Love you, too, dollface.” He smirked as he swung back over, waving at Hannah.

            With Dean in the ring, the arena settled and turned their attention to the ramp. It was the big moment—the main event of Wrestlemania where two Shield brothers would fight for the Universal Championship. Roman’s music thundered from the speakers. When he appeared, I couldn’t help but scream at the sight. He stalked down toward the ring, title draped over his left shoulder. He grinned when he saw Dean in the center of the ring, bouncing with his frenetic energy.

            Roman climbed the steps and slipped between the ropes. He climbed the turnbuckles, held his championship aloft for everyone to see. When he climbed down, he saw me and his dark black eyes went wide with happiness. I grinned back, waving and giving him the _shaka_ sign.

            The match started with the two of them in the center of the ring, brother facing brother. They grinned at one another, held out their fists, bumped their knuckles together. It was a beautiful thing—their brotherhood.

            The ring of the bell.

            The fight was on.

 

            It was forty-five minutes of nail-biting torture. Back and forth the two of them battled. I was sure I’d nearly broken bones in Hannah’s hand as they tossed each other around, fighting for something they both wanted, and both desperately deserved. Near pin-falls. Almost count-outs.

            One finisher after another.

Dirty Deeds.

The Spear.

Superman punch.

Samoan Drop.

Hook and Ladder.

Roman was down, brought to his knees near the far corner after one hell of a kick. He clutched his ribs, fighting for breath. Dean was draped against the turnbuckles, looking beat up and nearly broken. He looked across the ring, saw his brother, saw me at ringside. I smiled, hands clasped against my chest. I loved them both so much, but I couldn’t deny that I wanted Dean to win.

It happened in a split second. Dean exploded from the corner. His momentum carried him right into Roman, shoulder landing hard against the Samoan’s ribs. It was a beautiful spear, one that Roman would be proud of—if it hadn’t been directed at him.

They hit the mat hard. Dean rolled into the cover. _One… two… three…_

I screamed when they rang the bell. My mind was shouting at my body to stand, but my legs wouldn’t obey. Tears streamed down my face as I watched Dean kneel in the center of the ring and take the Universal Championship into his outstretched arms.

As Roman came to, Seth came down the ramp. Dean stood with the title held above his head, wildness in his eyes. The moment he stepped into the ring, Dean launched himself at Seth, grabbing his brother and tag partner in a fierce hug of celebration. An ache spread through my chest. I wished I could be a part of their joy.

Roman struggled to his feet, awareness of his loss slowly filtering in. He looked to his brothers who stood nearby. Limping, he joined them, the three of them in a huddle, arms around one another, a show that their bond was far beyond the title in Dean’s hands.

One by one, they peeled off and exited the ring. I clapped and cried, desperate to be with them again. I hated the way that my body had turned on me, taking me away from the three people who meant the most to me.

They circled around the ring, headed toward me. As they neared, the scent of sweat and heat settled in the air. I grinned, not even trying to hide the tears that burned hot against my cheeks. Dean leaned against the barricade, sweat darkening his hair and dripping from his skin. Roman wasn’t much better as he leaned over, his hand settling against the side of my head. He smiled.

Seth joined them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean. They grinned at one another before Dean thrust his fist in my direction. Seth’s joined next. Roman’s thumb brushed my cheek before he added his fist to the formation. I wiped my eyes, heart racing as I bumped my fist into theirs.

Static crackled in the speakers. _Sierra. Hotel. India. Echo. Lima. Delta. Shield_.

 

“Ya look good,” Finn said as we gathered around a table in a late-night diner. He waved a fork laden with shredded chicken omelet in my direction.

I grinned, blushing a little. Finn had always been friendly and flirty, even after Seth and I started dating. Seth took it in his stride, knowing that Finn and I were just friends. Still, compliments from a handsome guy would make any girl blush.

“Yeah, ya do,” Becky joined in. She pushed a plate of pancakes toward me, offering me a bite. I sliced a wedge off with my fork. “Though we gotta do somethin’ about tha’ hair. You’re fading, love.”

“Well,” I mumbled around the syrup and fluff in my mouth. “It’s not that easy to keep it bright when I don’t have hair and makeup available every night.”

Becky laughed. “Well, ya should come ta tha show tomorrow night. Let tha girls get ya all glammed up.”

I fought back a yawn. “I’ll see what I can do. Being out there in front of everyone tonight was almost more than I could handle. If Hannah hadn’t been there…”

Dean and Seth exchanged a look, almost as if they didn’t think I would notice. After a moment, Seth unfolded himself from his chair and stretched. “I think we’re turning in, guys. We’ll see you at the hotel tomorrow.”

Seth grabbed his jacket and swung it on. Then he moved chairs out of the way so I could maneuver away from the table. Exhaustion turned my arms wobbly, messed with my depth perception. I yawned wide, hiding my face behind my hands.

“Oh just push,” I said faintly, eyes already drifting closed. “I don’t even care anymore.”

He leaned down, dropped a kiss on the crown of my head. “Let’s get you to bed before your chariot turns into a pumpkin, princess.”

My laugh turned into another yawn. Bed sounded wonderful.

I guess my first Wrestlemania wasn’t so bad after all.


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

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            Hustle and bustle. The rush of the backstage area. Hair, makeup, producers, cameramen, runners. So many people—I’d almost forgotten everything it took to get the show on the air and keep it going.

            Alexa grinned at me as she sat in the makeup chair nearby. “It’s good to have you back, Llane,” she said cheerfully.

            I let out a happy purr as Samantha worked the dye into my hair, brightening the red. “Just a visit, Lex. Unless Vince has decided he’s going to do a legit handicap match for me.”

            “Still. It hasn’t been the same without you. Your boys just mope around back here most of the time.”

            “We do not!” Chaotic energy engulfed me, sending a sizzle along my skin.

            “Do so,” Alexa shot back, smirking. Dean walked between us, hopped up on the table where Samantha had spread out the tools of her trade. He smiled and pulled a roll of black tape from his pocket.

            “We’re not moping, Bliss. Without Llane to get us into trouble, there’s nothing to do.” Dean winked at me as he started wrapping his wrists and hands. “Rollins does pushups, Reigns composes Samoan poetry, and I plan new cocktail recipes. This one…” he jabbed a finger at me… “She’s the troublemaker.”

            I gasped in mock outrage, flipping him the finger. He pulled a face that made me giggle. “I buy two thirds of that. Roman has _never_ recited poetry—in English _or_ Samoan—so he sure as hell doesn’t write it.”

            Dean smirked, tore the tape with his teeth. “But you agree I’m a kickass mixologist.”

            “I agree you find new ways of making me forget the last five years of my life.” I glanced at Alexa. “Seriously. _Never_ drink the Ambrose Ambrosia. It might taste good, but you’ll forget your own name for a week.”

            She laughed. A pang of homesickness hit me. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her—all of them—until that moment.

            “Renee can handle it!” he retorted.

            “She’s built up a tolerance!”

            Alexa nearly fell out of her chair laughing.

 

            “We have a proposition for you,” Hunter said. He’d caught up with me in catering as I talked with Sasha and Bayley.

            “What do you mean ‘we,’ Hunter?”

            He smiled in that way that was partly frightening and partly endearing. “Steph and I have been talking. We don’t want to pressure you or make you think that you have to take it. If you want to stay retired and spend your time in Iowa, if that’s what makes you happy, we won’t be offended. You gave your life to this business, Llane—almost literally. So, if you want to come back—be a producer, a booker, creative… whatever—there’s a place for you. Onscreen or off—whatever makes you comfortable.”

            Burning in my chest. An ache that made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. Something between gratitude and terror.

            “Take some time and think about it,” he said. “The offer is open. If you want to take it today, that’s fine. If you want to take it next year, in two years, in ten—you will always have a place here.”

            I sniffled, fighting back the urge to cry. “Thank you, Hunter. I… I don’t know what to say. You guys have been so good to me, and I can’t thank you enough. This is more than I could have ever asked for. If I can’t be in the ring, I’d love to be back here.”

            Hunter smiled as he stood and rounded the table to engulf me into a hug. “It’ll be good to have you back. The boys have been a mess.”

            I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Has it been that bad?”

            He shrugged. “Dean’s been pretty bad, but you know him—he doesn’t talk much. Seth’s doing better.”

            “What about Ro?”

            Hunter rested his hand on my shoulder. “He’s never had any doubt that you’ll be back in that ring with another title someday.”

            With that, the tears came. I broke down, crying quietly in the catering area. Hunter pulled out a chair, wrapped me in a warm and firm hug. Being back with my wrestling family was overwhelming in the emotions that rushed through me. I was glad to see them again, to be back where I’d been my happiest. But it reminded me of everything I’d lost, of how much my body continued to betray me.

            “Thank you,” I mumbled against his shoulder, squeezing him hard. “For everything. For taking a chance on me. And for putting me with the Hounds. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

            Hunter chuckled. “That was all Steph. And don’t tell her that I said this—because I’ll deny it—but she was hoping you and Seth would hit it off.”

            I sighed, grinning. “Of course she did.”

           

            Seth knelt by the edge of the bathtub, his fingers working conditioner slowly into my hair. I let out a hum of contentment at the feeling. He chuckled, letting his nails scrape gently against my scalp.

            “So are you going to take it?” he asked, a smile on his face. He gently guided me into an upright position, supporting me with one arm as he used a plastic cup to run water over my hair. He took care to make sure that none of it got into my eyes.

            “I think so,” I murmured, too invested in how nice it felt to have him wash my hair. For some reason, it felt more like a moment for us to spend together in peace than him doing something for me because I no longer could. “I miss being on the road with you guys.”

            Finished, Seth leaned me back, picked up a towel and began to tenderly dry and wrap my hair. It was like being pampered in a full-service salon.

            “We miss you, too,” he replied softly. “And I know I speak for all of us when I say we want you to come back. But I want you to be healthy, Llane. You know what our schedule looks like. Do you think you can handle that kind of travel and stress?”

            A frown crossed my face. Irritation snapped into place. Words gathered on my tongue, desperate to tell him that I would be just fine. That he didn’t have to coddle me. That just because my body was broken that didn’t mean that my mind and heart and soul were too.

            He sighed. “I’m not saying you _can’t_ do it or that you _shouldn’t_. You’d be a great producer, and you’d give the girls some fantastic booking or stories. I know you are capable and wonderful. I just don’t want you to get run down. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

            The irritation slipped away. The frown melted into a soft smile. “Maybe it gets to be too much. If it happens, then you and I will talk about it… we’ll figure it out. Until then… I can’t stay in Davenport all the time. Black and Brave takes up some of my time, but I can’t train the women, so I’m basically useless unless I’m doing books or whatever. If I don’t do something, I’ll go crazy.”

            His eyes lit up. “You really want my opinion on this?”

            I grinned, rolled my eyes. “Of course, you idiot. We’ve got to figure out what to do with the dogs!”

            Seth let out a laugh that warmed me from the inside out. He beamed, leaning over to press a kiss to my lips. “I swear I love you, Llane Black.”

            “I swear I love you, too. Every person you’ve ever been.”


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 68

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            Tears blurred my vision. Every part of my body that wasn’t numb was in agony. I wanted nothing more than to scream, to sob, to curl into a ball and never feel another thing in my life.

            Natasha put my legs through their range of motion exercises as I lay prone on the padded table that was supposed to ease my pain. Instead, all it did was set pressure against my spine, send it radiating up my shoulders and into my arms. I ached every time I got on that table, every time Natasha pulled and pushed, poked and prodded, stretched and tightened the muscles in my limbs.

            Seth sat in a chair in the corner, his hands held tight in his lap, ankle propped up on his knee, leg bouncing nervously. He was in his favorite zippered hoodie and ball cap, but he looked far from comfortable.

            “Can you stop? Please,” he said, voice cracking almost painfully. He unfolded himself from his chair, crossing the room in two quick strides. “Give her a break.”

            I closed my eyes, knowing that if he saw me crying, he just might lose it. Hannah had always been the one to come to my physical therapy appointments, but in his days back in Iowa Seth had taken the job upon himself. The first time he came along, I’d broken down into tears halfway through the appointment and Seth had nearly lost his mind at Natasha.

            Roughened fingers brushed my arm, sliding down to entwine with my own. “Hey,” he cooed softly, squeezing gently. “I’m right here.”

            Pain radiated down the center of my spine, wrapped around my ribs and squeezed. It forced the breath from my lungs. I let out an agony-filled gasping moan, my nails digging into the padding of the table.

            “Okay, that’s it,” Seth stated, his hands leaving mine. “This is over. I’m taking you home.”

            I whimpered, desperately trying to get control of myself. After all these months, I thought I had gotten somewhat used to my body betraying me. Yet the pain that came from simple motion, from simply existing, from Natasha stretching and working my motionless limbs… that was more than I could comprehend. It was more than I knew how to manage, this pain that reminded me with every breath that I was irrevocably broken.

            Natasha tried to argue with him, but Seth wasn’t hearing it. He slipped his arms beneath me—one under my shoulders, the other lower where I could no longer sense. I felt the table receding beneath me, the strength of Seth’s arms curling me against his chest. A moment later, I was settled in my chair, tears streaming down my face.

            “I want to go home,” I whimpered.

            Wordless, he kissed the top of my head.

**~~**~~**

            Seth bundled blankets and pillows all around me, tucking me in to our bed. My hair was damp, curling along my shoulders after Seth had spent almost fifteen minutes carefully brushing it out. He was gentle, touching me as if I might shatter at any moment. The truth was that it wouldn’t surprise me if I did. Between the pain and the sometimes-debilitating sense of loss, there were still times when I felt like I would lose myself. More than I already had.

            He stretched out beside me, propping his head on his hand. He had a faint smile on his lips, but it looked sad more than anything else. “I love you, Llane.”

            My eyes fluttered, half awake, half slipping into exhausted sleep. “I love you, too,” I murmured through a yawn. “Colby and Seth and Tyler and everyone else caught up in your head.”

            His lips lingered against my forehead. “What can I do? I can’t stand seeing you in so much pain.”

            The clicking of paws on hardwood. Kevin hopped up on the bed, nudging his way between us and curling up in a ball against my side. I ran my fingers through his fur, unsurprised when Prince joined us.

            “There’s nothing you can do. At this point…” I sniffled, biting down on my lip to keep from breaking down into full sobs in front of him. “At this point, my body has given up on me. This is a permanent condition.”

            “We don’t know that. You weren’t able to feel anything right after the accident, but some of it came back after the surgery.” His palm settled against my cheek, thumb brushing the tears from beneath my eyes. “Maybe… maybe we should see another doctor. Maybe there’s something they can do—some new surgery or treatment.”

            Shuddering breath. A skittering heartbeat. The world spinning out of control around me. A gut-wrenching sensation of powerlessness. I wanted so desperately to believe like he did—that something might change, that some miracle might befall me, some new surgery that would fix what Ronda broke and give me back my life. But that kind of hope had dwindled in the weeks and months that followed the accident. We were six months out now, and nothing had drastically changed.

            “I don’t have the heart for that kind of hope anymore,” I murmured, leaning my forehead against his arm. “It’s time both of us accepted the truth. This is who I am now, who I’ll always be.”

            Tears gathered on his lashes, slipped down his skin. He cupped my face with one hand, fingers brushing gently through my hair.

            We sat in silence for a long while, both of us mourning the life that could have been. I burrowed deep within myself, hoping that somewhere there was some of that fire that I used to have. Hunter and Stephanie had offered me a job… an opportunity to still be a part of the world that I loved so much. No matter what happened, I couldn’t live the rest of my life without some piece of fulfillment.

            “Do you want me to take the job Hunter offered?” The words came out faint, terrified. In the back of my mind, I catalogued the reasons why he wouldn’t want me to take it. The road was his freedom, his place away from my fear and doubt, my pain and brokenness. And the painful truth was that I knew it was a chance for him to get the things that I no longer could give him. The guilt that lingered in my heart convinced me that he had every right to take what he could get—after all, there were hundreds of women who would wait in line for the chance.

            “I want you to be happy,” he pledged, wrapping me in his arms. Kevin growled, wriggled out from between us and curled up at the foot of the bed. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

            An answer tinged with sweetness. Yet an answer that fed the doubts in the blackness of my thoughts.

            “I need you to tell me, Colby.” I didn’t call him by his real name often—he didn’t like it from me—but when I did, it was for good reason. In that moment, I needed beyond Seth Rollins. I needed to get to the deepest heart of the man who I’d given my everything to. “I need a real answer from you.”

            He drew back, brown eyes masked with hurt. I felt his gaze as it swept over my face, searching for whatever it had been that triggered such a statement. He sighed and brushed my hair back from my face with trembling fingers.

            “I miss having you on the road with me. We all do. Wrestlemania weekend was the best time we’ve had in months.” He met my gaze, held it with assurance. “I know what you’re afraid of, Llane. And I swear to you that I’m not that guy anymore. I _want_ you to be with me… with us. So, yes, I’d really like you to take the job.”

            Something dark and painful slowly seeped out of my being. It slipped out into the void of the world, taking with it the feelings of doubt that had settled in my soul. It had been nearly a year since I’d debuted on the roster with the Hounds. Not once in all that time had he truly given me reason to doubt him. Even when we fought, when my mistakes and messed up brain made it almost impossible for him to love me, he never wavered.

            “I’m going to ask a question,” he murmured carefully, “and I don’t want you think I’m saying anything bad.”

            I nodded, waited patiently.

            “Have you seen your therapist lately?” He skimmed rough fingertips along my jaw, down my neck in soothing strokes.

            “Not for a few weeks. I was doing okay… especially after I went to Wrestlemania with you guys.” I sighed softly.

            Seth grinned. “Then maybe it’s time for you to go check in with her. And see what she says about you taking the new job.”

            His lips brushed against mine, tender and peaceful. He wrapped me in his arms, one hand cradling the back of my head. Seth seemed to pour his love for me into the kiss, lighting me up from the inside out.


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

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            “It’s hard to believe it’s been a year since you debuted,” Dean said, barely understandable around a mouth full of burger. We were at a hole in the wall place in Ohio, near the same arena where I debuted almost exactly one year before.

            I pushed my fries around my plate, trying to find one of the mushy ones that were my favorite. “Yeah. Six months of action and six months of this,” I replied, gesturing to the chair beneath me. Shrugging, I popped a fry through my mouth.

            “But it was a hell of a six months, wasn’t it, dollface?” I could tell he was trying to keep things light and playful. I was glad for it.

            “Damn right it was.” I grinned at him, picked up the burger that he’d ordered for me. It was huge—overflowing with sautéed onions and mushrooms, cheddar cheese, grilled pineapple, and barbeque sauce—and I didn’t know how I was going to finish even half of it.

            We were quiet for a few minutes as we both dug in to our food. It had been a long time since Dean and I had been able to just sit down, the two of us together. He was so much like Georgie and Bran, but there was something else about him—something that made him a missing piece of my soul. I loved him in a way that I couldn’t explain. It was like he knew the depths of the thoughts in my mind—how dark and frightening they could be. He was a balm to all that pain, because he understood it. He knew what it was like to feel out of place, like everything could be taken from you in an instant with no warning.

            Dean Ambrose was the rock beneath my feet, the calm in the storm of life. And I’d be forever grateful to him for it.

            “Nervous for your first night on the job?” He wiped his mouth, leaned his elbow on the table. His eyes twinkled playfully.

            “Not really.” I shrugged. Having him close by made it easier to think about sitting backstage in gorilla, headset on, tapped in to the referees as I produced my first match. “Especially since it’s your match. You’re a boss at what you do, Dean. Everyone who gets in the ring with you looks fantastic.”

            He grinned, pleased with the ego stroking. “That might be true—hell, it _is_ true. But other than Seth and Ro, you are the one who knows me the best inside that ring. It doesn’t matter that we only worked together for six months in there. You’re like Seth—between those ropes, you know me inside and out.”

            I blushed and reached over, squeezing his hand. “Love you, Dean.”

            “You, too, dollface.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

            Hunter made sure I had a place that was comfortable for me—enough space to move if I needed to, a wireless headset to talk to the refs, even a mobile monitor if I needed to go somewhere. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he came out with a custom rig for my chair with all my production gear.

            I was set up near Vince which made me more than a little nervous. Especially since Dean was the Universal Champion. Even if the match wasn’t for his title, no one wanted the Universal Champion to lose on a Monday night to a mid-card player. As much as I liked Elias, Dean was more important.

            Dean bounced nearby, his title around his waist, wrists taped up, a grin spread on his face. He smiled over at me, winking playfully as his music hit. Elias was already in the ring, trying his best to get out a song before he got interrupted. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get very far.

            I watched on the monitor as Dean sauntered down the ramp, cracking his neck side to side as he went. A grin settled on my face as I watched him, having missed the way he moved, the kind of confidence he had when he was in the zone. He was a thing of beauty—lithe, graceful, powerful, enticing. I loved watching him wrestle. It was one of the things that made me the happiest.

            The match kicked off. The two of them locked up in the center of the ring, trading holds and blows. The pace picked up quickly—one corner to the other, flinging each other against the ropes, bouncing back. Clotheslines. Shoulder tackles. Chin locks. Elbows. Boots. Elias was a little bigger, but Dean was fast and smooth.

            They hit every point of the match we’d planned. A fight over the guitar outside the ring. Elias getting suplexed from the second rope. Dean getting caught up in a sleeper hold near the center of the ring. He hit his knees, Elias putting his body weight on his neck. Dean started to fade, and the crowd started stomping, clapping, chanting his name.

            _Let’s Go Dean_ thundered through the arena. I grinned as he started fighting his way to his feet. He ran Elias back into the turnbuckle, shook him loose.

            The match ended with Dean hitting Elias with a Hook-and-Ladder. A count of two and a half. Elias tried to roll Dean into Drift Away, but got caught in Dirty Deeds instead. The three count was easy after that.

            Dean strutted back up the ramp holding his title over his head. He dripped sweat, his hair matted on his forehead. I watched as he winked at Renee at commentary before he slipped into the backstage area. He crossed gorilla and dropped a kiss on the top of my head.

            “You did good, dollface.”

            He disappeared back into the locker room area—hopefully to take a shower. I slipped off the headset and put it beside the monitor. Vince gave me a barely noticeable nod of approval before I rolled off in search of Seth and Roman.

            I found Roman first. He was sitting on top of a road crate, headphones on, phone in his hand. I tapped his boot to get his attention. He grinned, lighting up his black eyes. His damp hair was drawn back in a knot, his gloves lying on the crate beside him.

            “How’d it go, _itiiti_?” His voice was rich and deep, a sound that I’d missed hearing so much.

            I smiled back at him, trying not to cry. “Fantastic, but it was Dean’s match. You know he wasn’t going to let me look bad on my first night.”

            Roman chuckled. “They wouldn’t have trusted you with a UC match if they didn’t know you could make it look great.”

            My heart swelled with love for the Hounds who had taken me in—for Dean who had become my other half, for Roman who would always be the anchor in my life, and for Seth who had swept my heart into the whirlwind. My vision blurred. I wiped furiously at my lashes.

            “Hey,” Roman murmured, fingers against my cheek. He tucked hair behind my ear. “Don’t do that. You’re back and there’s no cause for crying. _Ia fiafia, tuafafine laititti_.”

            I sniffled, giggling. “All I got out of that was little sister.”

            He laughed. It was that musical chuckle of his that always enhanced the warmth that radiated off him. “We’ve really got to work on your Samoan, Llane.”

            “You can teach me in the car,” I said, finding my smile again. “I’m going back on the road with you guys.”

            “Good. It’s about time.” He hopped off the crate, his smile still radiating brightness and joy. “It’s good to have you back, _itiiti_.”

            He brushed a kiss on my forehead before grabbing his gloves and stalking toward gorilla. Shaking my head blissfully, I took off in search of Seth.


	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

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            Roman grinned as he poked his head into the door. “Hey, I’m going to grab something from catering. You want to come?”

            I smiled and pushed myself away from the table where I worked. It was very different from getting ready in the locker rooms for a match, but it was something I was slowly getting used to. Being back amongst the rest of the superstars was helping more than I thought it would.

            “Of course,” I said as I followed him. “I’m actually starving, but I’ve been so nervous about the last-minute changes to the match. With Sasha getting hurt this weekend, I had to re-block the match with Nikki and Alicia. And you know how they are.”

            Roman chuckled. “Well, that’s what you get when homegirl doesn’t have any concern for her safety. We been telling Sasha for years to stop with the suicide dives. But does she listen?”

            It felt so good to laugh with him again. His radiator warmth was still there, filling the air around us until I felt as if I’d been wrapped up in an electric blanket. I was suddenly thrown back to the first few nights of my time on the main Roster. Roman had accepted me into the fold, treated me just like a little sister, worrying about me, and letting me be part of the Hounds.

            The only sound was the rubber of my wheels against the polished concrete floors. It had become so familiar that it was almost like my heartbeat. However much I longed for the time before it had been part of my life, I knew that it wasn’t going to change.

            Roman stopped and slipped in front of me. He grinned at me, something mischievous in his black eyes. “Know what today is?”

            I watched the way joy lit up his features. “What did you do, Ro?”

            He laughed and started walking backward toward catering, beckoning me forward with a finger. “I can’t believe that you forgot your own birthday. Again.”

            I stopped, flipping through the calendar in my mind. I swore that I was going to be prepared this year—maybe do a little dinner with the Hounds, Becky, Renee. Yet I’d gotten so caught up in keeping the match together and everything that had been going on with my doctors that I’d totally forgotten about it.

            “In my own defense…” I started.

            He flipped his hand at me, a laughing smirk on his face. Before I could say anything else, Roman slipped around behind me and started pushing my chair toward catering. The noise level picked up as we got closer—more than the typical shouting and hustle going on in the place.

            Dean skidded around the corner, a wild smile on his face when he saw the two of us. “Dollface! Birthday girl!” From behind his back, he pulled out a stack of paper party hats complete with tinsel. “No admittance without the appropriate attire.”

            I couldn’t help but giggle as Dean carefully put the hat on me, taking care that he didn’t snap the elastic beneath my chin. He stuck one on himself and tossed the other at Roman before giving me a playful kiss on the cheek. “Gimme a lift?”

            Laughing, I patted my knees. “We’ll give it a go. No guarantees that the whole thing won’t fall apart.”

            “Better not risk it then,” Dean said with a smirk. He swept around behind me, shooing Roman away with a kick to the thigh. “Tell the rest of them the princess is on the way!”

            I rolled my eyes as Roman jogged off ahead. Dean fell into step beside me, letting me set the pace. His reckless energy reminded me of other times, the two of us in the ring at house shows, hamming it up and showing off. I missed those days more than I cared to admit.

            “Seth’s gonna shoot me,” he said softly, hands tucked in his pockets.

            “Why?”

            He reached out and tugged on the end of my ponytail. There was something both playful and apprehensive in his voice when he spoke. “Act surprised, okay? Later on. Not in front of everyone, he knows better than that. But… just act surprised.”

            I stopped, forced myself to think calmly. “Are you… Dean, you can’t be serious.”

            “As a heart attack, dollface,” he said solemnly.

            For a moment, everything went blurry. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on around me. The world shifted beneath my feet, turning me sideways. I thought I was going to be sick.

            And then I was hit with some delirious sort of joy. Like the first moment when I stepped into the ring… only a thousand times more powerful. Something sizzled in my veins, rushed along my skin. It turned my nerves into firecrackers that I swore I could feel in the soles of my feet. Blood pumped in my ears. I was nearly ready to cry with the overwhelming sensation of it all.

            “Even with all this?” I asked plaintively, gesturing to my chair. As often as he reassured me that he didn’t mind, I always feared somewhere in my mind that Seth would quickly get frustrated with the new no-sex aspect of our relationship. I couldn’t understand how what Dean insinuated could be real. “You’re fucking with me, Ambrose.”

            Dean swept in front of me, his hands braced on the armrests of my chair. He leaned over, eye to eye with me. “I might fuck around about a lot of things, Llane. But never something like this. Now practice your surprise face.”

~~~~~~~~~~

            There was so much cake. Too much cake for any one of these athletes to be eating before they went out to perform. Becky had three pieces all on her own, and she was part of a tag team match later that night. I could have sworn that Braun demolished half of the huge sheet cake by himself.

            “Happy birthday, Llane,” Seth said from beside me. He had one arm draped over the back of my chair, fingertips brushing slow circles on my shoulder blade.

            I grinned, even though I was slightly overwhelmed with the attention that swirled around catering with so many of the superstars and crew gathered together. Being there with him, with Roman and Dean, Becky and Braun and Finn, it felt like being home again. Those people… they were more than my friends—they were my family.

            “Thanks for this,” I whispered, leaning my head against his shoulder.

            He smiled. “I know you don’t like a big hoopla… but we couldn’t let your birthday go by without something. We just want you to know how much we love you. How happy we are to have you here with us.”

            Melancholy leaked into his voice. My fingers found his free hand, brushed against his roughened palm. I let my thumb stroke against the inside of his wrist where the faded tattoo of _Forever_ sat inside a burning page.

            “I’m so grateful for you,” I whispered. “All the parts of you—Seth, Tyler, Colby and everyone in between.”

            He swallowed, deep brown eyes shifting across the room. The others had started clearing out—to prepare for the show, to rest, to figure out how to put on a good show with 800 calories and a shit-ton of carbs running through their veins. After a while, it was just a few of us. Seth and I. Roman. Dean and Renee. Becky. Finn. Braun.

            Dean caught my eye, gave me a faint grin and a nod.

            This was it.

            “Llane…” Seth spoke distractedly, leaning back so that he could dig his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. “You know how much I love you, right?”

            Wordless, I nodded. Tears started welling in my eyes. Time compressed, stood still.

            “The good and the bad. That’s what I want with you,” he said, holding out something caught between his fingers. It was an oval cut white diamond that was surrounded by small black diamonds. The band was rose gold and carved with scrolling designs and inset with more of the black stones. It was petite. It was beautiful.

            It was perfect.

            “Yes.”

            He grinned. I grinned back. From across the room, Dean whooped his approval.

 


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 71

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            The airport was filled with hustle and bustle. There were people packed together, waiting for loved ones to get off their planes. Seth sat on the floor next to me, his phone plugged in to the wall as he scrolled through his Twitter and Instagram. I watched the people coming up from the concourse, desperate for a sight of Hannah and Carl, Georgie and Bran, Mel and the boys.

            “You remember our first official post, Llane?” Seth asked from my side.

            I glanced down, not wanting to take my eyes off the entrance for too long. “At the Riverwalk in San Antonio. Why?”

            He shrugged. “Just thinking. It doesn’t feel like it’s only been a year.”

            “God, no,” I laughed, tugging his beanie down over his ears. “A year with you is like a decade.”

            Seth looked up, a quirked grin on his face. It was part shock, part playful, and wonderfully happy. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”

            “Me either.”

            “Wane!” My heart seemed to freeze over when I heard my nephew’s voice. As often as my foster parents and foster brothers had seen me in my chair, the kids never had. I knew Mel and Georgie had talked to them about how I might be different, but I didn’t know the details.

            Big blue eyes and shaggy brown hair peered around from behind Mel’s legs. My sister-in-law was lithe and pretty—dark auburn hair with blue eyes and an easy smile. She grinned at me as she tried to guide Rickon toward me.

            “Hey, squirt,” I said, trying my best to be light and happy. “You’ve gotten big.”

            Seth unfolded himself from the floor and wiped off the seat of his pants. Georgie crossed the space between us and embraced him. Bran followed suit. Tears prickled in my eyes as I watched the three of them act like family already.

            Rickon slipped out from around his mother and toddled over toward us. He stood for a moment looking at me, his chubby fingers caught between his teeth, drool showing on the corners of his mouth. There was struggle in his blue eyes—trying to figure out if he knew what was going on, if he was ready to engage with me when I was so different than the aunt he remembered.

            After a moment, he made his decision. He grabbed hold of my knees, pulled himself up into my lap. I gave him time to get used to how different I was. He patted the chair in every place he could reach, leaned over the side to look at the wheels and how far he was from the floor. When he was satisfied, he looked up into my face and gave me a wet baby kiss on the cheek.

            I gathered him close, gave him a warm hug as he snuggled against my chest. “It’s good to see you, squirt.”

            Seth crouched down at my side. Rickon looked him over, making sure that he remembered him. “I’ve got a present for you, little dude.”

            At the word present, Rickon perked up. Grinning, Seth dug into the gift bag nearby. Last time they’d visited to help relieve Hannah, Georgie had mentioned that Rickon was absolutely obsessed with The Shield. While my nephew didn’t talk much, my foster brother was clear when he said Rickon loved talking to the television on Monday nights. Whenever any member of The Shield was on camera, my nephew babbled and pointed, deliriously happy until he realized that I wasn’t with them.

            From out of the bag came a toddler-sized customized Shield vest. My nephew’s name was embroidered on the front just above the Hounds logo. Rickon let out a squeal that echoed through the entire airport. As soon as he got his hands on it, he leapt at Seth.

            “Holy hell!” I cursed, grabbing the spot above my knee where he kicked me. Pain shot through my entire leg, radiating down the inner part of my calf. “That hurt, squirt!”

            The world skidded to a stop. Seth’s brown eyes locked onto me, something like hope burning in his gaze.

            “What did you say?” he asked breathlessly.

            My heart thumped dramatically. “He kicked me. In the knee. And it hurt.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            By the time we got back to the house in Davenport, there was a persistent pins-and-needles tingling all throughout my right leg. It was uncomfortable and painful and joyous _because_ it was painful.

            Hannah and Carl had insisted on staying in a hotel while they visited, especially since the entire family had come over from North Carolina. No matter how much Seth tried to argue that there was plenty of space, they wouldn’t hear of it. They’d already booked rooms for the two of them and for Georgie and his family. Only Bran had decided to stay in the house with us.

            That didn’t mean that the entire family ran off as soon as we pulled into the driveway. Seth convinced everyone to stay for dinner at least, and he insisted that they take one of our cars to get to the hotel and back again.

            Rickon sat on the edge of the dining table with his little Shield vest and played with some action figures Mel had brought with them. I was rolled up near him, watching as he staged battles and conversations between his figures, trying to ignore the tingling ache that ran zig-zags up through my leg so I didn’t get my hopes up.

            Bran sank into the chair across the table from us, smiling. He was younger than Georgie and me—in his mid-twenties with bright blond hair and black eyes. Not long out of college, Bran worked construction, training to be an architect, while his wife, Cara, went to dental school. Once I joined NXT and then made the main roster, I didn’t see him nearly as much as I’d have liked to.

            “Still hurting?” Bran asked, gesturing toward my leg.

            I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, but it’ll probably be numb again by the morning.”

            He laughed. “Let me get under the table, maybe you can wiggle your toes.”

            “If I can, then Rickon should be given a sainthood.”

            From the kitchen, I could hear laughter from Seth, Hannah, and Georgie. It wasn’t often that Seth cooked more than a quick bite. By the sounds of it, he was making a full dinner. As I thought back on everything we’d been through, I couldn’t be more grateful for how wonderful he was.

            “You look happy, Llanie,” Bran said quietly. He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around my hand. His thumb brushed the ring Seth had given me on my birthday. “And he knows you pretty well if this is any indication.”

            I laughed. “Well, my hair _has_ been red and black since he’s known me.”

            “You know what I mean,” Bran said firmly. “I’m glad you’re taken care of. Because you’re my big sister, and I love you.”

            Tears beaded on my lashes. I tried so hard not to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “We’re going to see your doctor first thing in the morning,” Seth said later that night as we lay curled up in bed. The ache still ran along the muscles and nerves of my leg. There were times when it radiated up through my back and into my hips and side. I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

            “Maybe Rickon needs to kick me in the other knee.”


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter 72

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            “You didn’t have to come, you know,” I said from my spot lying propped up on the examination table. My hands were folded over my stomach, forefinger tapping a nervous rhythm on my wrist.

            “Shut it, you,” Dean replied, eyes bright and a smile wide on his face. “If those legs are about to start working again—you can damn sure believe I’m gonna be here.”

            Seth chuckled, looked up from his phone. “Ro’s on his way, too.”

            “My God, am I a sideshow now?”

            Dean stood, sauntered across the room in that fluid way of his. His grin faded into seriousness as he leaned over, tucking his hand against the top of my head, thumb brushing against my forehead. “You’re one of us, dollface. And this is big. Every one of us is gonna be here when you get back on your feet again.”

            A knock. Scrape of a wood door on tile. Squeaking shoes. A whiff of jasmine perfume. Dean stepped back, propped himself against the wall a few feet away.

            “Someone told me you’ve got some good news, Llane,” Dr. Thurman said with a grin. She was a beautiful woman in her early forties, dark natural hair, eyes like onyx. Her skin was like polished ebony, her smile breathtaking.

            Seth stood up as she came in, returning her smile with a handshake. “That’s what we’re hoping for, doc,” he said.

            Dean chuckled. “If only that was all it took to get dollface on her feet again, I think you’ve waited too long to turn on the charm.”

            Dr. Thurman laughed. “You must be Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

            He shrugged. “All of it bad and ninety percent of it true.”

            I waved my hand in front of his face. “Hey, patient over here. You two aren’t the center of attention right now.”

            With a final grin, Dr. Thurman turned toward me, her expression turning serious. “So tell me what’s going on.”

            I recounted everything that happened—Rickon kicking me in the knee, the pins-and-needles feeling, the radiating ache ever since. She did a general once over to check my vitals. When she finally did get to my leg, she took her time. I sat up straighter, ready to watch her do the exam.

            “Focus somewhere else.”

            “On it,” Dean said as he slipped into place so that I couldn’t see what the doctor was doing. He grinned. “I came all the way from Vegas for this, dollface. Where we goin’ for dinner tonight?”

            “You’re the idiot who took a redeye because Seth called you at one in the morning,” I sassed back. “But there’s a new coffee place by the school you might like.”

            Dean scoffed. “Hate coffee. Think people who drink it are weak.”

            “Hey!” Seth said from somewhere to my right.

            “It’s true,” my former partner continued. “A man that needs caffeine to function is a man who just… ain’t a real man.” Dean leaned in toward me, continued with a stage whisper. “Probably a Bears fan too.”

            “All right,” Seth said against the sound of his chair squealing against the floor. “You’re supposed to be distracting her not insulting me.”

            “It’s one in the same most times,” Dean retorted.

            “This is why I don’t take you two anywhere. You act like--- _OW!_ ” I jerked instinctively, my hand wrapping around my knee, pulling it against my stomach. Clear, sharp pain radiated up my leg from a throbbing spot on the sole of my foot. “That fucking hurt!”

            Dr. Thurman smiled proudly. “Good. I want to get an MRI and a CAT scan to see what’s going on. Most likely, the kick was coincidental.”

            “You think she’s going to get feeling back in the other leg?” Dean asked hopefully. I reached out, squeezed his palm. He wrapped his fingers around mine. The tremble in them was evident.

            “I’ll make that call after I see what the tests show.” The doctor scribbled something on my chart. When she was finished, she looked from Seth to me. “I’m going to see if there’s time to do them now so I can get you some answers sooner rather than later.”

            Just before Dr. Thurman walked out of the room, Dean spoke up. “There’s this surgery I’ve been reading about—peri something nerve transplants. That an option for her?”

            “We’ll talk about that when I see what the tests say.” With a faint smile, the doctor walked out.

            Dean caught Seth’s gaze, the two of them sharing some silent communication. It was something they did—it made them so wonderful in the ring—even though I didn’t like how they sometimes they had these silent conversations _right in front of me_.

            Seth crossed over to me, leaned over to press a kiss against my forehead. “I’ll go hang out by the desk, see what info I can get about those tests.”

            He smiled at me, his brown eyes glittering. Electricity ran through my chest, jump started my heart into a thundering pace. Heat burned along my spine, that flame that had been so hard to find the last six months.

            As soon as Seth was out the door, Dean had his phone out. It was an older model—the same one he’d had since the Hounds debuted on the main roster. He swiped, the faint _tick tick tick_ sound following his fingers tapping in something. His foot hooked around the leg Seth’s vacated chair, pulled it to my side as he found what he was looking for.

            “Here it is,” he said, turning his phone toward me as he started to talk. “It’s this surgery where they find where your spine is fucked up and they—I don’t know how they do it, but they move your nerves around so you can feel again.”

            I read through the article he pulled up. It didn’t mince words about how dangerous the surgery could be, but it also talked about high success rates. Unfortunately, according to the article, it was only done in a few selective hospitals. And none of them were in Iowa.

            “Dean, I know you want me back in the ring…”

            “Fuck that,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t care if you never get in the ring ever again. This isn’t about that.”

            I quirked a brow. “The what is it about?”

            He shrugged. “I want you to be able to walk down the aisle when you get married.”

            My throat tightened. Heat burned behind my eyes. Tears blurred my vision as they ran tracks down my cheeks. Something deep in my chest ached.

            “Oh, Dean,” I said through tears as I tried to sit up. Dean helped me near the edge of the table then threw his arms around me.

            I wrapped my arms tight around him, letting myself cry against his chest. Through everything, since the first moment when I set foot on the main roster, Dean had been my best friend. He understood me completely, knew how to shed light into all the darkest corners of my mind. I’d say it a thousand times—Seth had the whole of my heart and soul, but Dean knew me in a way that no one else ever would.

            Seth had adapted to life with my chair. He had redesigned his entire life around my loss. He had rebuilt our relationship until I trusted him with my sadness, my fear, and my desperation. In the end, he had reclaimed our lives in a way that I never expected. He was The Architect—in the ring and out of it—and he had changed everything about who we were until we were better than we had ever been.

            But Dean… Dean wasn’t willing to adapt. He wasn’t willing to wait for someone or something to come along to change what happened. He’d run the place into the ground until he found someone willing to get me back on my feet. There was a reason why some called him unstable.

            He didn’t take no for an answer. And it didn’t seem like he’d be doing it for me, either.


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 73

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            The tests had to wait for three days. Dean was beside himself, threatening at least once every few hours to call and bully the hospital into getting me in. It was all I could do to calm him down, to keep him occupied so that his thoughts ended up elsewhere—at least for a little while. Seth watched with an indulgent smile, letting the two of us bicker and soothe like siblings. I think he knew that I needed the distraction just as much as Dean did.

            Space in the Davenport house was at a premium these days. Seth and I were lucky enough to have our bedroom to ourselves—Kevin and Prince notwithstanding. My brother Bran had already laid claim to the guest bedroom. That put Dean on the living room sofa since he refused to go into Davenport and get a hotel. Carl and Hannah were there often, Georgie, Mel, Rickon, and the baby in tow. There were times that it set me on edge, made me always afraid that I was going to run over someone or something with my chair.

            I saw a new side of Seth. With the house full of people, with my nephews and my brothers, he was more than just his charming self. There was something light and easygoing about him. He played videogames with Bran, talked football with Georgie and Carl. Rickon wanted to follow in his shadow every waking moment. Even the baby preferred it when Seth cuddled him.

            It was almost as if his happiness returned without the burden of worrying and caring for me alone on his shoulders.

            Still, he was the one who knelt by the edge of the tub and scrubbed shampoo through my hair, massaged conditioner into my scalp. He was the one who helped me get dressed, who did all of the things that I needed to just function normally. It was his hands that soothed the ache in my back and shoulders. It was him who tickled the bottom of my foot each evening, making certain that the sensation hadn’t flitted away again.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            The scent of roasted coffee beans swirled around me as we crossed the threshold of _392 d-port_. I could hear the grinder turning as one of the baristas pulled an espresso. There was the hiss of air as another foamed milk for a cappuccino. I breathed deeply, enjoying the glorious smell of dark roast beans.

            Seth swept to the counter, leaning down on his elbows as he talked to a couple of the kids behind the bar. I rolled toward a table near the back wall, beneath a bank of TVs showing a collection of local news, daytime shows, and ESPN. Dean sank into a chair across from me, his lanky frame spreading out.

            “Of course he has his own coffee shop,” Dean said, shaking his head and watching as Seth walked behind the counter. “And of course he knows what the hell he’s doing back there”

            I leaned against the table, grinning. “He’s good at it. Not just the coffee or the business side of it—running the money or whatever. He’s good with the people who come in here. Sometimes we come down here and he just… hangs out. Gets to know the regulars.”

            Seth appeared at the tableside, his long fingers and strong hands holding three steaming cups. He sat one in front of me, put another in the empty place saved for him, and pressed the last into Dean’s hands.

            “This better not be some fancy bullshit,” Dean said, sniffing at the cup suspiciously.

            I snickered, sipped at the latte Seth had made. A little hum of contentment slipped out. Seth grinned with pride.

            “It’s straight black, bro,” he said, slipping into the open seat. “If you want something in it, just go up and tell them.”

            Dean drank it slowly, doing his best to act like he didn’t trust it. I watched him with a smirk, knowing that he was actually enjoying it.

            “I was thinking,” Seth said quietly, tapping his fingers against the side of his cup. “Maybe we could have the reception here. We could wrap the place up in white lights. If you’d like.”

            Dean’s eyes met mine. A flash back to the conversation in the doctor’s office.

            _I want you to be able to walk down the aisle when you get married_.

            Warmth in my veins. A sensation of falling, flying in my stomach.

            “I think I’d like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            I was starting to hate the septic scent of doctor’s offices and hospitals. Seth sat in the chair in the corner, legs crossed with one ankle propped up on the other knee. I watched his foot shake in nervousness from my place on the exam table. He tried hard to hide it, but I knew that he was worried about what the tests might show.

            Dean leaned against the edge of the table near my feet. He had one hand on my still-numb calf. His entire body thrummed with electric energy, an energy that was bound up in anxiety and fear.

            For their sake, I’d keep myself together.

            No matter what the tests said.

            Dr. Thurman pushed into the room, a laptop tablet in her arms. I pulled myself up to sit a little straighter. Whatever she said, I’d always have the Hounds at my side.

            She drew a stool over toward me, a slight smile on her face. “How are we feeling today, Llane?”

            I shrugged. “I’m alright. The ache is starting to fade a little. I’ve still got that pins-and-needles feeling sometimes, though.”

            The doctor nodded, pulled up something on the computer. She looked from Seth to me. “So… I’ve got some good news.”

            Seth dropped his foot to the floor, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Dean started gnawing on his thumbnail.

            “Your MRI shows that your spinal cord has healed amazingly. As the swelling goes down, your nerves are able to function the way they’re designed to.” She turned the computer around so that I could see the images on the screen. She took her time, pointing out how my scans had changed from immediately after the accident to now.

            “Does that mean that it’s going to continue getting better?” I asked the question before one of the others could.

            “It could. But I’m concerned that you’ve only regained the feeling on one side. The scans are showing that the swelling has reduced uniformly from the damaged area.” Dr. Thurman pointed to a spot on the scan. “If you were going to get the sensation back in your other leg, it would have happened at the same time. At this point, I don’t think there’s going to be much more improvement.”

            “ _Fuck_ ,” Dean swore under his breath. He looked like he wanted to put his fist through the wall. I reached for him, squeezed his hand.

            Seth got up, crossed to stand on my other side. His fingers threaded through mine.

            The three of us faced this together. I just wished that Roman had been there, too.

            “That doesn’t mean there aren’t some options for you,” Dr. Thurman said, glancing between the unit that we had become. “Rehab and a KAFO might be able to help you walk with crutches.”

            I glanced up at Dean, realized he was fighting down the feeling of helplessness in the face of my body’s betrayal.

            A deep breath. Throwing caution to the wind. Promising myself that I would talk it through with Seth later.

            “What about the surgery—the peripheral nerve surgery?”

            Seth’s fingers tightened around mine. I refused to look.

            “Is that an option?” I asked again. “I know there’s a surgeon at University of Michigan who does it and they’ve had good success rates with it. Am I a candidate?”

            For a moment, I didn’t think she would answer. Dean squeezed my hand until it hurt.

            “Yes, you are.”


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 74

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            Stephanie and Hunter sat at the table with Seth, Dean, Roman, and me. We were at an out-of-the-way restaurant in Portland, Oregon. It was a Monday afternoon before a show, a week before the Backlash pay-per-view.

            “It’s only fair, after everything you’ve done for me, that you know,” I said, looking over the table at Hunter. “You stuck your neck out bringing me to NXT. Steph, you brought me up to Raw and gave me the best gift that anyone ever could. You gave me these three.”

            Seth squeezed my hand, his fingers threaded through mine. I sensed the sunset sea calm that was Roman’s presence nearby. Dean was on my other side, his arm draped around my shoulders. I was enmeshed in a gold-lined aura of protection with the three of them—the steady predictability of the waves against the shore, the beautiful yet reckless energy of unbound lightning, the sense of an ever-expanding universe wrapped around an eternal center. Breathing became easier when they were close by.

            Stephanie looked at the four of us, a sad expression on her face. “I’ve told you before, it’s the best decision I ever made. You four have magic together. In and out of the ring.”

            Hunter cleared his throat, leaned forward on his elbows. His fingers interlocked. He stared at them for a long moment. “I don’t think you know how sincerely sorry I am that this happened to you, Llane. Not as a superstar, not as a member of the WWE roster. But as a person whom I care very deeply about. And I wish I could make it right, but it’s impossible to go back.”

            “You want to make it right?” Dean snarled, jamming his finger at Hunter. “Get Ronda out of that ring. She’s dangerous, she’s careless, and she’s reckless. It’s her fault that this happened to, Llane. And all due respect, boss, but you fucked up when you brought her up without one ounce of proper training. I don’t care if Piper came out of his grave and blessed her with the Blarney Stone.”

            Dean’s voice got gruffer, more impassioned with each word. I reached over and wrapped my fingers around his wrist. Eyes closed. Deep breath. The flex of tendon and muscle. A balled-up fist.

            “She could have killed Llane that night,” Roman said quietly, but firmly. “It was sheer luck that she didn’t completely snap her neck, and you know it.”

            Hunter and Stephanie looked at one another. It was Hunter who finally spoke. “We know. And we’ve spent a lot of time dealing with the fallout. It doesn’t make it any better and there aren’t any words that will make up for that failure on our parts. I know it’s a poor way of trying to make it up to you, but you should know that she is paying every penny of your medical care. Out of her own pocket.”

            Dean made a noise that clearly indicated that he didn’t care much for that idea. I held onto him a little tighter.

            “It’s far less than what she should be doing, I know,” Stephanie said gently.

            “She _should_ be back getting her head kicked in over at UFC where she belongs,” Dean snarled.

            Sigh. A focused drawing in of the strength of the three men around me. A desperation to push back the wishes for a different life.

            “We’re not here about that. Well, not entirely. You might want to tell her to get her checkbook ready,” I replied flatly. “I’ve regained feeling in one of my legs, but the other hasn’t caught up. And the doctor doesn’t think it ever will. Not on its own at least.”

            “There’s a surgeon at the University of Michigan who has a high success rate with a surgery that might be able to restore her nerve function,” Seth said, glancing at me as he spoke. “It’s expensive and extensive. And it’ll mean she’s going to be out for a while with more rehab if it works.”

            Stephanie glanced at me, something knowing in her eyes. “Llane, you know with a surgery like that… our doctors are probably never going to clear you to compete again. Don’t do this if you’re just trying to get back in the ring.”

            Heat burned along my throat. Acid bubbled behind my eyelids. I blinked hard, willing away tears.

            “I don’t care if I never get in the ring again.” I looked from Dean to Seth, focused on the feel of their hands against my skin. I thought of Dean’s words. “I just want to be able to walk down the aisle when I get married.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Backstage, I watched the bank of monitors as Bayley and Sasha defended the Women’s Tag Team titles against Nia and Tamina. We’d spent most of the day before blocking the match, making sure that everyone knew their spots and calls. It was my first produced match on a pay-per-view.

            It would be my last for a very long time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Seth stood in the center of the ring, his retained Intercontinental Title dangling from one hand. His hair was frizzed and fluffy, face and torso slicked with sweat. The lines of his ribs were visible as he panted to catch his breath. Elias had already rolled out of the ring, made his way up the ramp.

            A mic in his hand. Something burning in his gaze as he looked up the ramp toward the backstage area. I could almost feel the weight of his eyes all this way.

            “I want to just… no, I _need_ to say something.” Seth paced, ran his hand over his hair to flatten the flyaway strands. He looked down at his title, dropped it to the mat like it was nothing. “All of you know what’s been going on the last six months. Llane Black has been through hell and back. We… _I_ almost lost her. At TLC, her career was taken from her. Damnit, her _life_ was almost taken from her.

            “From _me_. _Us_.” He stopped, looked down and took a deep breath. “Tuesday morning, Llane is going into surgery. It’s our last chance to see her back on her feet again. And I will be with her until she’s cleared. So… I won’t be able to properly defend this Intercontinental Championship. I have to—”

            Panic blurred into my veins. It seeped through like gasoline burning through everything.

            I shouted into my headset, demanded that they cut Seth’s mic.

            On the monitor, his eyes widened as he tapped hard on the mic. He walked to the edge of the ring, motioned for another.

            I looked around, desperate for some way to stop him from doing what he was about to do. I needed Roman or Dean, someone who could run out there, to make him rethink this decision that would ruin his career.

            A cameraman was nearby, one of the guys who worked with the backstage interviewers. I waved, got his attention.

            Shouted instructions to the crew in the truck. Desperation to get on that screen before Seth got a new mic and made a very big mistake.

            “Seth!” I shouted into the camera. I gripped the side of the lens in my hand. From their perspective, it might look like one of the social media style shots. I didn’t care. I was just desperate to get his attention. “Seth Rollins!”

            The scream of the crowd, muffled as it was by the curtains and the sets, let me know that they could see me on the screen. I could only imagine what Seth looked like, staring up at my face on the big screen with terror burning in my eyes.

            “Don’t you dare, Seth. Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to.” I gasped for breath. “That title is _yours_. You’ve earned it. And I’ll be damned if you give it up for me. Now pick it up and get your ass back here.”

            I turned, glanced at the monitors nearby. There was a glitter in his eyes as he leaned down, took the title back into his hands, and slid out of the ring.

            No music. No chants of _burn it down_.

            Just my name echoing against the rafters, wrapped in well-wishes and love from the WWE Universe.


	75. Chapter 75

Chapter 75

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            I hated flying these days. Not that it wasn’t nice to get on board early and have priority access to stuff. But I hated the way that people stared at me, the way that their eyes saddened with sympathy. I didn’t need it. 

            I insisted that we could have driven from Iowa to Michigan—it wasn’t like we weren’t used to long road trips in a cramped car. But Seth wouldn’t hear of it. With everything that was riding on this surgery, he didn’t want to take any chances on the road.

            The rush of electricity that I always felt when he was near was blurred with an undercurrent of worry. It hung like a haze around him, present in the way that he bounced his leg nearly the entire flight. He held my hand from the time we took off to the time we landed.

~~~~~~

            Dr. Thurman had sent most of my records ahead of us, but the surgeon wanted to do a consultation before he finalized the procedure. It was already on the schedule, but nothing was set in stone until he put his stamp of approval on it.

            Dr. Carlson was a serious kind of man with a molasses complexion and glittering black eyes. He smiled as he walked through my history, asked me about the accident and the physical therapy. He took his time going over my test results, doing a physical exam, testing my reflexes and sensation.

            After what felt like hours, he was satisfied.

            I would go under on Tuesday morning, just as planned.

~~~~~~~~

            Anxiety ripped at my bones, turned my stomach inside out. No matter how much I tried to talk myself into relaxation, everything seemed to be moving at light speed around me. It was nearly impossible to breathe. I swear my fingers never stopped twitching.

            Nurses led us back to the pre-surgery waiting room. They asked me a thousand questions about whether I’d eaten since midnight, if I’d taken any medication that morning, if I thought I might be pregnant. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at the last one.

            After a while, they took me back to prepare me for surgery. They helped me out of my chair and into a bed. Out of my street clothes and into a hospital gown. Swept my wild hair up beneath a cap. Stuck an IV in the back of my right hand.

            “We’re going to be right here when you wake up,” Seth said soothingly, sitting in a chair by the bed and holding my free hand. “Dean and Ro are on the way. Their plane was delayed a little.”

            “I know they won’t listen, but they didn’t have to come.”

            He smiled softly, gave my fingers a squeeze. “You belong to us, Llane. You’re a Hound, and we don’t leave our own behind.”

            Before I could say anything, the surgeon stepped around the curtain that separated me from the other patients. He smiled reassuringly. “It’s time to get you going, Ms. Black.” He gave me a quick once over, surely going through a checklist in his head. “You’ll need to leave your jewelry with your husband.”

            I glanced down, remembered the engagement ring on my finger. Seth carefully slipped it from my hand and tucked it in the pocket of his jeans. He leaned over and kissed my knuckles before they ushered him away.

            The full reality of what was about to occur didn’t settle in until he was gone. It was happening. There was a possibility that when I woke up from this, I could walk again. I might never get back into the ring to compete, but I could at least move without my body completely betraying me.

            My last thought before I fell under the anesthesia was of Seth and how much I was doing this, not just for me, but for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

            Voices. Far away like static. Familiar but strange.

            “I hate seeing her like this,” said one voice. It had a cadence to it that settled against my soul, embraced me like a long-forgotten piece of home. “Too much like that night.”

            “The surgeon said things went well,” replied another. This one was deep, rumbling. Like the crash of surf against the sand.

            “It’s been an hour,” came the first again. “Shouldn’t se be waking up by now?”

            “Any time,” the second returned. “You know how she is. Always has to do things her own way.”

            The two voices intermingled with faint laughter. Another wrapped in with them, a sound that called to something deep within me. It made heat bloom against the base of my spine. Shoot flames along my ribs. I remembered it from somewhere, that sensation of being engulfed in fire and heat and desire and joy. My heart thumped in my chest, felt like it was ready to burst.

            Flashes of light. Color. Shape and shadow. I blinked rapidly, trying to wrest myself from the deep waters of anesthesia. Voices got louder. Clearer.

            “There’s our girl,” cooed the second voice somewhere off to my right. I caught the scent of ocean spray, felt a wave of warmth spread over me. My head turned toward the sound, tried to focus.

            “It’s about time, dollface,” chuckled the first voice. I sensed it at the end of the bed. The warmth turned chaotic with a rush of energy.

            Calloused fingers brushed softly along my jaw. I nuzzled toward the touch without conscious thought. “Take your time, Llane. We’re not going anywhere.”

            I breathed deeply, felt it burn in my chest. Blinked slowly, each bat of my lashes a little longer than the last.

            At last, the world came into view. Everything was blurred around the edges. My whole body was warm, tingling with the aftereffects of the drugs. I glanced around before I tried to turn my head. When I was sure that I wasn’t in a neck brace, I slowly rotated toward the person standing on my left. The one who touched me so gently.

            Seth had his beanie pulled down over his ears. Headphones hung around his neck, tucked just under the collar of his zippered jacket. I could just make out the Bears logo on his tee. His eyes were bright, brows drawn just slightly. There was a faint smile curving his lips.

            “Hey,” he said softly. His thumb brushed my cheekbone. Electricity sparked across my skin.

            I swallowed. Took my time forming the sounds and syllables.

            “Colby.” My voice was hoarse, thick with drug-induced sleep. I tried to smile, but wasn’t quite sure that I’d managed it.

            He gave a gentle rumbling laugh. “Llane,” he retorted with a wide grin. His free hand turned the plastic ID bracelet around my wrist. “Maybe I should start calling you Sophie.”

            I made a face, one that I’d seen him do a thousand times. “How ‘bout no?”

            At the end of the bed, an energetic chuckle filled the room. I turned my attention to who was there, glad to see the faint reddish-brown hair and fun blue eyes of Dean. He grinned at me, his dimples popping in his cheeks.

            “Huh, someone still has some secrets, don’t they?” He winked, bracing his hands on the end of the bed and leaning forward. “How you feelin’, dollface?”

            I glanced toward Seth, steeled myself for the numbness that had been my life for the last six months. My sluggish brain took its time taking stock of my body. I could feel the sheets and blankets over my torso, my hips, one leg. Watching carefully, I wriggled the toes on my good leg. Tried again on the other leg.

            Nothing.

            Seth squeezed my hand. “Give it time.”


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 76

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            “How’s our girl feeling today?” Roman said as he appeared around the door of my hospital room, a bright smile on his face. He held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a teddy bear in the other.

            I straightened up as much as I could, returned his smile. “I’m sore as hell.”

            He laughed as he sat the flowers on the windowsill. “Sore is still feeling, so that’s good.” Roman moved across the room, settled the bear into the crook of my arm. “JoJo wanted me to get you something.”

            “That’s so sweet. Tell her I love it.” I cuddled it against me, remembering the first stuffed animal that Hannah ever gave me. Carl thought I was too old for one, but when she handed me that white rabbit with blue satin ears, I knew that I was finally in a place where I could feel safe.

            Roman sank down into the chair at my bedside. He made the whole room seem small with his bulk. “Do they know when they’re going to release you yet?”

            I shook my head. “Not yet. It would be nice to go home.”

            The door yawned open once more. Dean swept into the room, Seth following right behind him. My tag partner looked me over with appraising eyes, nodding when he seemed satisfied.

            “Looking good, dollface,” he said as he rounded the end of the bed to embrace me. He smelled like desert wind. “Any change?”

            I gave a little shrug, sighing. “Faint pain. Comes and goes. I think I can feel my down to my knee sometimes. It’s like an itch under novicane.”

            Dean nodded as if he knew what I was talking about. Seth sat down on the edge of the bed, stretched out beside me when I moved over to give him space. He tucked an arm around my shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss on the side of my head. A little trail of electricity skipped along my skin.

            “She’s a trooper, our girl,” Seth said with a broad grin.

            “Damn right,” Dean replied. He smiled too, an action that made his dimples show beneath his beard. “Of course, she’s a Hound and we don’t really take shit lying down.”

            I couldn’t help the smile that swept across my face. For a moment, it felt like old times. Like those nights in the locker room, warming up and yelling at one another. Those nights on the road, in that old SUV that smelled faintly of rotten Mexican food. Mornings in the hotels, stuffing our faces with just about anything we could get our hands on, going cheap whenever we could. It was just like when we were the Shield at the height of our strength, running the yard of Raw holding all the titles.

            “It’s good to see you smile again, _itiiti_ ,” Roman said gruffly. He reached out, slipped his fingers around my palm.

            “It is,” Seth whispered against my hair. His fingers brushed along my arm in soothing circles. “I’ve missed that smile.”

            Heat burned behind my eyes. I blinked, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. 

            Dean shook his head. “None of that. No crying.”

            I swiped at my lashes. Breathed in deeply. Sank in to the sense of warmth and electricity and energy that was the three of them.

            I felt like myself. The best version.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Take your time,” my therapist, Michelle instructed kindly. “It isn’t going to happen all at once. We’ve basically rebooted part of your nervous system, Sophie.”

            “Llane,” I retorted quickly. “Nobody calls me Sophie anymore.”

            She nodded, took it in stride as she helped me out of my chair and onto something that looked like a combination between a rowing machine and a leg press. She fitted my feet into straps on the two plates and then moved the seat forward until my knees were bent at almost back against my stomach.

            “These move independent of one another,” Michelle explained, tapping on the plates. “Right now, there’s no weight on them at all. First things first, we just want to see what kind of strength your good leg has. So when you’re ready, I want you to try to extend your leg all the way out. Push with your whole foot, not just your toes.”

            I nodded, gripped the handles on each side of the seat. My chest rose and fell, deep breaths in and out. A flash of memory. In the gym with Seth, racing to see who could finish their set faster.

            I wish they’d let him come with me.

            A thought. A command. _Move_. _Push. Stretch._

            My good leg trembled. Nothing happened. Frustration took root in my gut. All this work, all the doctors, the agonizing physical therapy, the surgery, the sacrifices that Seth had already made… it had all been for nothing.

            Grinding. Faint squealing. The plate moved. Just a little at first. Maybe half an inch. Then one. Two. Five. Topped out at seven. My leg was about halfway straight, but every muscle and tendon shook with the effort. As soon as I lost my concentration, I was right back to where I started.

            “That’s good, Llane,” Michelle cheered. “That’s really good.”

            We tried again, but each time I could barely reach that first seven-inch mark. Michelle was encouraging, letting me know that as I rebuilt my stamina and the muscles in my leg, I’d be able to surpass it with ease, take on some weights, and do the whole thing over again.

            “Now,” she said, crouching down beside me. Gentle fingers touched the knee of my other leg. I could sense the weight of her hand, but nothing more. “I want you to try it with this leg. And don’t get discouraged if it doesn’t move right away. Just keep telling it to move.”

            Once again, I wished Seth was there to cheer me on. It would have been even better if the entire Shield had been there.

            I screamed in my head. I begged my body to not give up on me, to not betray me when I’d done all of this just to get here. Just once… once after all the shame and guilt and frustration of the past six months… after gaining the dream I’d chased for years and having it ripped out from beneath my feet… after being so close to everything I had ever wanted… just once I hoped and pleaded that I could do something. Anything.

            I’d take just a fucking twitch of my big toe.

            Anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Seth was waiting in my room with some food from a nearby restaurant. The room was suffused with the sharp scent of his shampoo and soap. He’d gone back to the hotel to shower and change, came back in a pair of grey skinny jeans and a _One Nation Under Wrestling_ tee from Black and Brave. His dark hair was tied up into a knot, hidden beneath a Bears snapback turned backwards.

            He broke into a grin when the nurse rolled me into the room. There was that tiny gap between his front teeth that I loved desperately. It made the man that he was seem boyish. He stood up, unfolding his frame from his chair.

            “How’d it go?”

            I glanced at him then down at my foot.

            By the time he looked, my toes were wiggling.


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter 77

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            “It’s going to be a boring place without you,” Michelle said with a faint smile. “You’ve done an incredible job.”

            I smiled back, even as I worked agonizingly to move that plate with my newly repaired leg. My limb was still sluggish—not quite moving exactly when I told it to, but a little bit afterward. There wasn’t a whole lot of strength, but I had progressed slowly from wiggling my toes to being able to flex my foot. It barely did anything with that plate, but it was a centimeter more than I’d been able to do before.

            My good leg had strengthened at surprising speed. I’d moved from no weights to five pounds to ten to fifty to seventy-five. With Michelle’s help, I’d been able to stand on it with the help of a walker.

            “When you get back to Iowa, you’ll meet with your regular PT person to get your long-term KAFO fitted. Use it until you can bear weight on the repaired leg evenly with the other—with or without assistance—and you can move just the same as you normally did.” Michelle gave me a long list of things that I’d need to do when I got home, including a new set of at-home exercises. She gave me one final look before I left on that last day. “Next time I see you, it’s going to be on TV. I’m sure of it.”

            I couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that part of my life was over. “Maybe. Who knows.”

~~~~~~~

            “Are you sure you want to do this?” Seth asked in my hospital room as he made sure that everything we’d brought had been packed back up. “It’s a long way from here to the exit.”

            I nodded, looking down at the brace that was wrapped around my repaired leg. It was black carbon fiber with padded straps that wrapped snugly around my thigh, upper and lower calf, and ankle. Rounded metal rods connected the straps, a hinge sitting on either side of my knee. It was tight and not very comfortable, but it was only a temporary KAFO brace until we got back to Iowa. A custom one was on the way.

            A walker stood at the end of the bed that had been my home for two and a half weeks. I’d promised myself that if this whole thing was successful, I was going to walk out of the hospital. Even if it took me an entire day.

            “Yeah. Are Dean and Roman here yet?”

            Seth grinned. “They’re outside, waiting out front.”

            With a deep breath, I dragged the walker toward me. My hands seemed to sweat as I wrapped my fingers around the grips. For a split second, I thought about just giving in, letting Seth wheel me out in my chair, brace or no brace. What if I failed? What if I _fell_ and hurt myself even worse than before?

            “Hey…” I heard Seth’s voice, looked up to see him standing just out of reach. “You can do this. And if you stumble, if you fall, if you need a break… I’m right with you. Right beside you. Behind you. Wherever you need me.”

            I rolled my neck side to side, cracked it the same way that I used to when I was getting ready to go into the ring. Adrenaline started to drip into my veins.

            Not giving myself time to think twice, I planted my good foot on the ground and pulled myself up into a standing position. It took me a moment to get readjusted, to find my balance with the KAFO. It was still unwieldy, strange. I didn’t quite know how to move normally in it yet.

            Deep breaths. Taking the time to get steady. Chanting quietly in my brain about the pattern of steps. _One……… Two… One………Two… One……… Two…_

            “You’ve got this,” Seth murmured, one corner of his mouth curling up. He had our bags piled in my chair.

            For the first time in nearly eight months, I took a step.

~~~~~~~~

            I could see them standing just outside the doors, leaning up against the side of their rental car. Every muscle in my body ached. I could feel the sweat along the back of my neck and down my spine. My face was either deathly pale or red as a tomato.

            Seth strolled slowly at my side. “You’re doing fantastic, Llane.”

            I huffed and puffed. “I’m going to die.”

            “Do you want your chair?”

            “Hell no.”

            He laughed, that deep and intoxicating laugh of his. “That’s my girl.”

            I laughed in return, kept my eyes fixed on Dean and Roman standing outside. I set their faces in my thoughts. Paused for a moment, caught my breath. Readjusted my weight like Michelle told me. Felt the KAFO pinching the skin along my thigh.

            There would be bruises all over me by the time I got the custom brace.

            The door got closer and closer. Even if every other step took a little longer. Even if my arms and legs and stomach and back ached and burned with the effort of just keeping myself upright.

            Five feet.

            Three.

            One.

            The automatic door swished open. Seth grinned with pride as I took my first steps outside the hospital.

            I caught Dean’s gaze. His blue eyes were glittering with tears. They streaked down his face into his beard. At his side, Roman wasn’t much better. I could see the muscles in his jaw bunching as he tried to hold back his own sobs.

            Dean stepped forward, wiping his eyes with his thumbs as he came closer. He looked as if he didn’t know what to do.

            “Hey, dollface,” he said, voice gruff.

            I grinned, felt Seth slip into position behind me. His presence was an overload of electricity that made me feel like I could do anything. One of his hands curled against the small of my back, steadying me in my exhaustion.

            Dean’s hands settled on either side of my head. His thumbs were damp as he stroked my cheekbones gently. He opened his mouth to say something else, but stopped himself. Instead, he pressed his forehead against mine, cradling my face gently. Energy seeped into my bones.

            Warmth radiated into me as Roman joined us. His presence seemed to complete the last piece of me. I let out a faint sigh of release, feeling at last that there was something normal about me again.

            His words came out in lilting Samoan. The words washed over me, writhed their way into my limbs and my heart and my soul. It was the music of the ocean against the shore, a sea breeze through swaying palms.

            “ _Ou te mitamita tele ia te oe, tuafafine laitiiti_ ,” he murmured over and over. “I am so proud of you, little sister.”

            In an instant, I was surrounded by the Hounds. They gathered close, arms wrapped around me, foreheads pressed against me.

            All four of us, crying.

            The three of them supporting me, holding me up until there was nothing else I’d ever need.


	78. Chapter 78

Chapter 78

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_Six Months Later_

            Seth, Dean, and Roman walked ahead, making sure to keep a tight barrier between me and the rest of the backstage area. It was the first time since my surgery that I’d been at a show, and I was hoping to surprise not only the Superstars but the WWE Universe. The doctors had been very clear through the last months of my rehab that I wasn’t anywhere near cleared for competition—and might never be. But I was on my feet again, and that’s really what mattered.

            “You made sure to call Hunter, right?” I asked for the twentieth time.

            Dean turned to talk to me over his shoulder. “Yes, dollface.”

            The four of us walked into a locker room near the end of the hall. On the bench by the door was a bouquet of flowers with a card sticking out of the top. I recognized Hunter’s handwriting.

            Right next to it was a gift bag tied with a bow.

            “What’s this?” I asked as I dropped my duffel bag on the floor.

            “A welcome back gift,” came a voice from behind me. I turned to see Hunter standing in the doorway, a big smile on his face. His eyes were glassy with tears as he took in the sight of me.

            I grinned back at him as he gathered me into a hug. It reminded me of my time in NXT, of the pep talks and the guidance. It made me feel like I was finally home again.

            “It’s good to have you back, kid.” Hunter’s voice was deep and more than a little gruff. “And even better to see you on your feet again.”

            I looked around, back at Seth who nodded. My heart pumped a little harder in my chest. “Is that… uh… producer job still open?”

            Hunter chuckled. “Of course it is. At least until you can get in the ring again.”

            A faint sense of sadness fell over me. “That’s not going to happen any time soon, Hunter.”

            “Then I guess that producer job is a long-term gig.”

~~~~~~~~~~

            The Shield had a match as the main event of Raw. The closer it came, the more nerves started to take hold. There were moments when I wasn’t sure if I could hold myself together long enough to actually make it through the night.

            Not long before the match, Seth, Dean, and Roman stood around me. It was just like old times. The three of them had their arms around me, foreheads pressed against my hair. The air was close—filled with warmth and energy and electricity. Every ounce of it sank into me, wrapped around my bones until there was nothing left but the certainty of us—of the three of them as the constants of my life that would never waver, never fall, never change.

            “We’ll see you out there, dollface,” Dean quipped with a smirk.

            Roman pressed a kiss against my cheek before turning to follow security out toward the concourse. Seth stepped into his place and gathered me up against his chest. There was something bright in his eyes… something more than just the adrenaline of an impending fight or of walking through a crowd of people riled up by excitement and joy.

            It was something like pride.

            “I’m so proud of you, Llane,” he whispered. His arms tightened around me, hugged me close. “You are the strongest woman I’ve ever met. And I’m lucky to have you.”

            Tears burned in my eyes, but Samantha had worked so hard to get my makeup and hair just right. I wasn’t going to ruin it by crying. Instead, I forced a grin. “Damn right you’re lucky.”

            Seth laughed, that deep kind of reckless laugh that I’d missed so much. A kind of heaviness had settled on him after the accident. Even on our best days, he still carried a burden that no amount of reassurance could shake. It was so good to see him back to his old self again.

            He kissed me before going to join his brothers. Security formed up around them, led them out toward the concourse to get ready for their entrance. I watched them go, feeling butterflies take flight in my stomach.

            It was a strange feeling waiting in gorilla. I remembered the days when it had been just Dean and me. When I wasn’t yet one of the Hounds, when all I had been was a newcomer who hadn’t earned their stripes yet. Instead of having to do it all alone, Dean brought me in… the three of them made me one of their pack… gave me a brand-new family that I could rely on through it all.

            Out in the arena, the Shield music hit. Static crackled through the speakers. _Sierra Hotel…_ It sent a shiver up my spine.

            My heart skipped into overdrive.

            I tugged the straps on my brace, made sure that everything was fitting right. It wasn’t the unwieldy KAFO that I’d worn just after the surgery, but it did the job of supporting my leg as it continued to gain strength. I could walk without crutches these days, which made me happy. Samantha had done her best to help make sure that it fit just right with the clothes I’d chosen to wear. A pair of cutoff jean shorts over black leggings, a _Lunatic Llane_ shirt, and sneakers. My newly dyed bright red and black hair twisted into a set of beautiful curls and tied up in a high pony.

            It was like old times.

            I was back in my armor.

            I felt strong again.

            My music hit. Adrenaline flooded my veins. Something metallic danced over my tongue.

            I strode forward, burst through the curtain—limp or no limp.

            The crowd popped. It echoed, bouncing from the rafters and swelling until I was sure my ears were going to bleed. But I didn’t care. It was euphoric to hear their shouts, their chants, the rhythmic beat of their feet against the floor.

            I stood at the top of the ramp, allowing myself a few minutes to bask in the joy of just being in front of a crowd again.

            The Hounds stood in the ring, all turned toward the entrance ramp. It was a mark of how wonderful they were at their jobs that they looked surprised to see me. That fact alone made the crowd go even wilder.

            Smiling, I walked down to the ring. People screamed on every side, the noise nearly drowning out the sound of my music. It was something I’d almost forgotten, like a detail from a long-ago memory.

            A burning in my chest. Beautiful. Frightening and breathtaking. Gloriously addicting.

            It took a little longer than before to climb the steel steps. Before I knew it, the three of them were lined up, sitting on the middle rope and holding the top one on top of their shoulders. It took a moment for me to maneuver my way inside. The three of them were tearing up, even as they clenched their jaws tight to keep from showing it.

            For the first time in over a year, I stood in the ring. And just as it should have been, the Hounds were right beside me.


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter 79

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            “Why do you think we have you do knee highs?” I shouted, pacing around the edge of the training ring at Black and Brave. The girls were taking turns doing the cat climb up the turnbuckles and backflipping off the top rope. And most of them were using their hands.

            With each one of them, I grew more and more frustrated. They knew how to do this. I knew Marek had shown them. Seth was the Master of it.

            One after the other, they tried. Halfway up, they got scared. They threw out their hands, caught the top turnbuckle and pulled themselves up the rest of the way.

            “Okay,” I shouted at last. I just couldn’t take it any longer. I slid under the bottom rope. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

            The girls looked at me, not entirely sure what was going on. I tugged my hair up, tying it up into a high knot. Sluggish blood turned to fire in my veins.

            “Stop being so fucking scared,” I snapped. Without a second thought, I took off at a run.

            Bottom rope.

            Middle rope.

            Top rope.

            A gentle bending of the knees, the familiar bounce, a rotating of my body in a fluid arc. Tucking my chin. Orienting my body so that I hit the mat on the balls of my feet, knees soft.

            Adrenaline flooded my system. My heart nearly tore through my ribs it was thudding so hard. Heat blistered along my cheeks.

            “You know how to flip. You climb to that top rope all the time.” I pointed at the ring post. “All that’s different this time is you aren’t using your hands.”

            I backed into a nearby corner, hopped up to sit on the top turnbuckle. One by one, they lined up to try again.

            From the corner of my eye, I saw Seth standing just inside the hallway, arms crossed.

~~~~~~~~

            “What the _fuck_ were you thinking?” Seth snapped when I slipped into the back during a break.

            “That Marek is still teaching the girls to wrestle like a man.”

            Seth growled, following with heavy footsteps as I walked down the hall to the office. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

            I sank down on worn sofa pushed up along the wall. My brace peeked out from my duffel bag, and I reached for it. Silence stretched out as I tugged it up over my leggings, strapped it in place.

            “I wasn’t thinking.”

            “Clearly.” Seth stood over me, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were dark with fury and worry.

            The adrenaline rushed out of me, puddled into the floor. A sudden exhaustion whispered into me.

            I looked up at Seth, shame slipping into place. A faint ache ran along the outside of my thigh. Before I could hide it, a grimace made its way onto my face. I pressed my palm against the ache, rubbing gently.

            A sigh.

            “I’m sorry,” I breathed, stretching my leg out on the sofa. “It was stupid, and I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

            “You’re goddamn right it was stupid, Llane. _Jesus_ ,” he spat, pacing just in front of me. “I can’t believe… you could have ended right back up in that chair. You know that, don’t you?”

            His body was caught up in sharp lines and angles. I heard the rapid intake of his breath. Saw the jumping of his pulse in the hollow of his throat. Felt the tension that curled his fingers into fists.

            Seth wasn’t angry… not truly. Frustration may have been a better term for it. But it was a kind of frustration that he understood somewhere deep inside. No, it wasn’t anger at all.

            He was afraid. Seth Freakin’ Rollins, the Architect of the Shield, was terrified of what I’d done. Of how carelessly I’d thrown myself up those ropes and into the air after less than a few weeks without needing my brace full time. He knew the reality of a broken version of me—the chair, the emotional turmoil, the tears and the pain. And even a chance of a return to that reality frightened him in a way that he couldn’t comprehend.

            I moved toward the edge of the sofa, doing my best to hide the discomfort from my face. My fingertips brushed his forearms, wrapped around and held on to pull myself to my feet. His entire being vibrated with the intensity of his terror.

            “Colby…” I whispered it softly. Ever motion was slow, like getting close to a wounded animal. “Colby, look at me.”

            I waited, my gaze sweeping over his face. His olive skin, the neatly trimmed lines of his beard, the jealousy-inducing fringe of his lashes. Every single millimeter of him was beautiful and breathtaking. To see him so afraid…

            His brown eyes met mine. Tears gathered along the line of his lashes, beaded up and fell as he blinked. His jaw was clenched tight.

            “I’m so sorry.” I cradled his cheeks against my palms, thumbs sweeping the tears away. “I never meant to worry you. Or to frighten you. It was an instinct that I didn’t think to check before I followed through. It won’t happen again.”

            Seth closed his eyes, leaned into my touch. He drew in a deep breath, his chest shuddering with it. “Every time you go near that ring…” he began before his words were choked off with a faint sob. I slipped my arms around his waist, held him with every ounce of my strength.

            He wrapped me in a near-crushing embrace. His chin dug uncomfortably into the top of my head, but I kept quiet. That didn’t matter. All that did was that Seth knew I was there, and that I loved him with every atom in my body.

            “I almost lost you,” he wept into my hair. “I didn’t know if you were going to come out of that first surgery. And afterward, I was so terrified of saying or doing something wrong, that I made you feel alone. If you had…”

            The full measure of how much he had carried the last year finally dawned on me. I had been convinced that he was bent under the burden of physically caring for me, for helping me to maneuver life in my chair. Not once had I really considered how deeply it had rocked him-in his heart and soul.

            “Oh…” It was all I could say. Words didn’t mean much just then.

            I hugged him tighter, burrowing against the strength of his chest. For so very long, he had been the air in my lungs and the ground beneath my feet. He had been the center around which my entire life orbited. It was my turn to be his foundation.

            “Let’s go home.”


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter 80

_(GIF owned by jimdrugfree on Tumblr)_

            Seth’s fingers slipped through my hair. I purred in contentment as he drew me closer against him. The scent of him, the heat of his skin settled over me in a way that I thought I’d never have again.

            The softness of his beard tickled along the line of my throat as he pressed a hundred feather light kisses onto my flesh. Fingers wrapped in my hair, tugged gently to arch my neck, opened more skin for his mouth to explore.

            A faint whimper. A matching groan.

            “I’ve missed that sound,” Seth murmured. He nuzzled his nose against the spot just behind my ear that made me shiver. “I’ve missed all this.”

            My palm skimmed up his bicep, over his shoulder. There were no words to describe how much I had missed his touch, the feel of his body against mine, the sensation of just being in his arms—protected and treasured and loved. I let my fingers scratch along his jaw, burrow into his thick black hair. When I pulled him close… when our mouths met… it was like the first time all over again.

            I felt the tension of his muscles beneath my fingertips. The vibration that shuddered through him turned my head with desire—a reminder and a promise of what he could do with that strength. My heart ran like hummingbird wings as I thought of the ways he touched me until I couldn’t think.

            “Seth,” I whispered.

            He smiled slowly, hands making quick work of the few clothes that I wore. I shivered as the cool air rushed over my body, raising goosebumps. His eyes darkened as he looked down the length of my body. His chest rose and fell rapidly with his panting breath as he leaned over me, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of my head.

            “Tell me if anything hurts,” he said tenderly. Once I nodded, he lowered his weight onto me little by little, still keeping some of it on his hands and knees.

            He returned his attention to my throat, his mouth finding every spot that he knew I loved. He took his time. It had been so long since he’d touched me like this that it quickly became an overload of sensations that took my breath away.

            By the time Seth settled his lips against my nipples, I was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, every millimeter of my body on fire in the best possible way. There was electricity beneath my skin… prickling along every nerve ending until it felt like I was dangling on the edge of a cliff with my hand on a live wire.

            I wrapped my fingers into his hair, tugged until he looked at me. “I can’t take much more,” I whimpered, a shudder running through my bones.

            Seth smirked as he carefully settled between my thighs. His fingers threaded with mine as he pushed himself slowly inside of me.

            Ripples of pleasure ran through me, stronger on one side than the other, but still overwhelming from their absence. I fought to keep my breath, to hold back the tide of the first orgasm I’d felt in a year.

            His movements were slow, methodical, a smooth rolling of his hips that nearly drove me mad. The heat of his body burned through me. Every stroke awoke a gasp that dripped from my lips, brought out a matching groan from his.

            “Okay?” he whispered; voice ragged with his reigned in force.

            I wrapped my arms around his neck, legs around his hips. He growled as I leaned up to kiss him firmly. “Absolutely.”

            Seth let out a strangled growl as he lifted my hips from the bed, fingers digging in to the yielding flesh. He pressed his forehead against mine as he picked up the pace, chasing the release we both needed.

            One tilt of his hips was enough to send me over the edge. I’d almost forgotten how it felt when he played my body like this, eliciting a rapturous sort of pleasure from every muscle and cell. Panting turned to moans that became a squealing scream as my nervous system short circuited, overloaded with sensation.

            He rode the waves of my orgasm, every thrust sending a brand-new burst of pleasure through me. When he finally stilled, spilling himself inside me, I thought I was going to black out from it all.

            “Fuck,” he growled when he finally caught his breath. With gentle motion, he settled me back against the mattress. His hand brushed over my thigh, and I whimpered.

            “Llane?” he asked, brow furrowed in worry.

            I shook my head, reaching for him with trembling fingers. Every part of my body still buzzed with the afterglow of release. “I’m okay.”

            Seth stretched out on his back, gesturing for me to fit into place against his side. He let me take my time to settle in comfortably—head on his shoulder, arm draped over his torso. Once within his arms, he nuzzled his nose against my hair with a satisfied sigh.

            We lay in silence for a long while, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my shoulders. Every now and then he gathered me a little closer or let out a gentle noise of contentment. There were lazy kisses against my hair. The thump of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips.

            “I’ve missed you,” I said at last.

            His finger and thumb caught my chin, turning my head up to meet his gaze. “I’ve missed you, too. Not just like this, but just being able to hold you without being afraid of causing you pain. That’s what I’ve missed the most all this time.”

            “Promise me you’ll hold me every night then.”

            Seth leaned close, his mouth hovering just a breath above mine. Before he pressed his lips to mine, I heard him whisper. “Until the day I die.”


	81. Chapter 81

Chapter 81

_(GIF owned by pparkerz on Tumblr)_

            “Ya’ still in there, Llane?” Becky called out, her voice muffled by the thick curtain that blocked off the dressing room. “Ya’ stuck in it?”

            The sales attendant smiled at me in the mirror. I smiled back, trying not to laugh and mess up what she was doing.

            “No, Becks. It’s just taking a while to get it laced up.”

            Wolf whistles and shouting filtered through.

            “Shu’ up, all o’ ya!” she commanded, barely audible over the noise. I could hear her lilting Irish accent as she tried to rein in the group who waited outside.

            “Are you sure about this, Lanie?” Hannah asked from just over my shoulder. Her voice was heavy, thick with emotion. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping a few secrets from everyone with this.”

            I caught her gaze in the mirror, waved her forward so I could look her in the eyes. When I finally met my foster mother face-to-face, I saw the tears that blurred in her eyes. Her calming scent of Lily of the Valley washed over me, making me feel like I had all those years ago when she’d welcomed me into her home.

            “I know, Mom,” I said, reaching out to take her hands in mine. “And trust me, I’m keeping plenty of things from them—and a whole lot of things from Seth about this entire little shopping trip—but they are my best friends. Those people out there…”

            The words got caught in my throat. I knew what they were, what I wanted to say. The people gathered in that waiting area were as close to family as Hannah and Carl were. It was a truth that was as solid and real as the floor beneath my feet, but somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. There was something about saying _family_ to Hannah that made me pause. She was a woman who didn’t have to step up, open her home to a messed-up kid who’d been abandoned and abused by everyone she’d ever known. But she had. Hannah Weston had done everything that a mother could, especially for a child that wasn’t even hers.

            Hannah pulled her hands from my grasp and settled them against my cheeks. “They’re your family, too.” There was something sad almost in her voice, but she nodded with conviction. “Just promise me that I’ll be the first one to see you that day.”

            I nodded, feeling tears burn in my eyes. The sales attendant only just finished the lacing when I threw my arms around my foster mother and hugged her tightly. “Absolutely,” I whispered through soft sobs.

            Hannah squeezed me tightly one last time before she pulled away from me. She wiped the tears away with a tissue passed over by the attendant. “You’re my daughter, you know that, don’t you?” She looked me in the eye, a soft smile on her face. “When you came to us, you were so angry and so scared. That first week, you barely said more than two words to us. Sophie… you were so fragile then, like an angry little china doll.”

            She caught my chin in her fingers, tilting my head up. “But Llane… our Lanie… you’re so strong. This business has changed you in a million ways. Every single one of them good.” Hannah peeked through the curtain for a split second. “That’s why you and Dean get on so well.”

            I couldn’t help the shocked look that splashed across my face. She chuckled. “He and I have had a few heart-to-hearts, Lanie. Almost as many as Seth and I’ve had. This business gave the both of you something to live for. And some _one_ to enjoy life with.”

            Hannah kissed me on the cheek before stepping out of the way. The sales associate gestured toward the curtain. With a nod, I let her pull the fabric back so I could slip through. Noise filtered back from the people who had come along with me for this moment. Becky was still trying to control the lot of them, but it wasn’t much use. Dean was surely not paying the rest of them any mind, and Renee was passing time on Instagram. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Roman was taking a nap.

            My foster mother went ahead of us. As soon as she rounded the corner, I heard the general snapping the troops into shape.

            “Oy! You lot! Look alive. ‘ere she comes.”

            Hearing Becky made me smile, reminded me that this was a moment to enjoy. The sales associate followed behind as I stepped out in front of them all.

            Dean was the first one to see me. His face lit up; blue eyes bright as a grin stretched over his face. He reached out, tapped Renee on the knee to get her attention. With her little gasp of surprise, a ripple ran through the group.

            I walked in front of them, let the sales associate help me up onto the little stage set up before a three-sided mirror. For the first time, I got a good look at the dress.

            My _wedding_ dress.

            It was something very different from anything I ever thought I would wear. Every day of my life, I’d lived in ripped jeans and worn band shirts. Yet there I stood in a gown made of silk and chiffon that felt like a gentle cloud. It was dainty. Feminine. Delicate. It was both softening and empowering, a vulnerability and a set of armor as strong as my ring gear.

            It made me look exactly the way Seth made me feel.

            The bodice was boned silk that was covered in folded layers of chiffon, its thin straps covered with beaded stones. A matching belt marked the place where the bodice ended and the skirt began. The silk underskirt skimmed along my legs, widening as it flared from my hips. Tiered layers of chiffon made up the outer skirt, one that swelled around me in a bell until it touched the floor. The silk was a pink so pale that it was nearly impossible to tell the color at all. The white chiffon hid the color even more.

            “Well?” I asked nervously, looking out at the faces of the people who meant the most to me.

            Dean stood, that ever present frenetic energy of his crashing into me as he got closer. He walked a slow circle around me, taking in each little detail of the dress. Renee followed close behind him, the tips of her fingers lightly brushing the chiffon on the skirt, the gemstones on the belt.  When the two of them were in front of me again, Dean swiped haphazardly at his cheeks.

            “Stop it,” I said, my voice breaking as I tried not to cry in response. “It’s not that big a deal.”

            He reached out and took my hands in his. Renee leaned against his back, arms around his waist, eyes peering over his shoulder. There was a satisfied smile on her face.

            “Yes, it is,” she said. “You’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

            Dean turned his head a little, grinning at her. His eyes lit up, brightening in that way that they always did when he looked at his wife.

            “Other than this one,” Dean said as he turned back toward me, “you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

            “‘ere, ‘ere!” Becky said with a big smile. “And if Rollins don’t think so, give me a call. I’ll set ‘im straight. Or marry ya myself.”

            I laughed, glad that I had a friend like her.

            A moment later, warmth radiated into the air, lapping at my feet like waves against the shore. Roman slid into view, his dark eyes twinkling. He gave the dress a once over before nodding firmly, decisively.

            “You look wonderful, _itiiti_.” He brushed hair away from my face, his palm settling against my cheek.

            Peace seemed to wrap around me like a cloak, one that smelled of the sea breeze and desert heat. I could only imagine what it would be like when the crackle of electricity ran like an undercurrent to it all.


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 82

_(GIF owned by angry-puppy on Tumblr)_

            Seth grinned as he sat cross-legged on the floor at the foot of the Christmas tree. Kevin gave a little _boof_ sort of bark as he climbed out of my lap and crossed over to his dad. Prince was curled up on the chair snoring softly. I sat with my back against the sofa, my brace strapped on firmly, and a pillow held in my lap.

            The tree was lit up with strings of multicolored lights that reflected off a myriad of ornaments—glass baubles, plastic and resin figurines, strings of silver tinsel and metal spirals. A pale-yellow star sat atop it all, shining over the piles of gifts that were tucked beneath. There were boxes large and small, all shapes and sizes, wrapped in blue paper covered in white and silver snowflakes. Heaps of bags, stuffed with green and white tissue paper, were arrayed on top of packages, hung from the lower branches. A pair of bright red stockings hung from hooks beside the window—our names embroidered on the fluffy white cuffs. They bulged out from the wall, clearly stuffed with treats and snacks.

            “Is it weird that I feel like a kid right now?” I asked as I watched snow dance in the alternating pattern of the icicle lights on the porch.

            His smile got wider, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. He ran a hand through his hair, still damp from his shower. “Nothing wrong with enjoying Christmas. It’s always fun.”

            I snuggled the pillow in my arms, laying my cheek against it. “Most of the time.”

            Seth’s smile faded just a little. “I’m sorry,” he soothed.   
            “Don’t be. I had some really good Christmases when Carl and Hannah took me in. Georgie was determined that I enjoy the holidays. One year,” I recalled fondly, “he spent like a whole month’s paycheck from his part-time job on presents for me. He was twenty, I think. It was the year after I was placed with them. He was so happy, so excited when I opened all the gifts. Maybe Bran was in on it, too?”

            “They loved you. But that’s not surprising. You’re easy to love.”

            “Not then.” I let myself think back to when I was first with them. “I was angry. I was vindictive. I was… I was a very fucked up kid. Nothing about me was easy to love then.”

            Seth sat Kevin on the floor and scooted across the space between us. He took my hands in his, squeezed them gently. “I love you. All those pieces of you—Sophie and Llane, the girl you were, the woman you are, the woman you will be—I love them all the same.”

            An ache in my chest. The sense of my heart swelling against my ribs. A feeling of being unable to breathe, but in a most wonderful sort of way. It was hearing my own words—my constant assurance that I loved every part of him—from Seth’s lips.

            A reminder that he cared for me as much as I cared for him.

            He gathered me into his arms, gently kissed me. It was a tender sort of kiss—the feel of his mouth brushing along my own, the playful nip of teeth along my bottom lip, a slow and soothing sweep of his tongue just after. He cradled my cheek in his palm, guiding the tilt of my head as he deepened the kiss. I sighed into it, wrapping my fingers in his damp hair and pulling him closer.

            When he drew away, his eyes fixed upon my mouth. His pupils were blown wide, ringed with a thin hoop of dark brown. Warm, solid muscle brushed against me as his chest rose and fell with the effort of catching his breath. Color brightened his cheeks, making his eyes sparkle.

            “I love you more than you could ever know,” he whispered, gaze slowly working up to meet mine. “I could lose everything else in this world, but as long as I had you… that would be enough.”

            Sniffling, I tried to smile. I wiped quickly at the tears beading on my lashes. “You are so wonderful. I mean it. Everything you’ve done—the way you took care of me, that you rearranged our entire lives around my chair, God, Seth… you carried the weight of both of us for almost a year. I can’t thank you enough for the man that you are.”

            He ran the pad of his thumb along my jaw. “You’ve made me into a better man. And I’m forever grateful for it.”

            A comfortable silence settled over us. I let my head fall against his shoulder as we watched the lights twinkling on the tree. Kevin snuggled back into Seth’s lap, promptly going back to sleep. My fingers slipped through the fur behind his ears.

            “Let’s open presents,” Seth said at last. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and then scooted back toward the tree.

            “That one first,” I directed, pointing toward a smallish box near the front. It was the last present I’d wrapped for him, a surprise that I hoped he would like. Wrapped in shiny blue paper, topped with a white bow, it was the best gift I’d ever given.

            Seth’s brow rose, eyes brightening with excitement. He picked it up, balancing it on his outstretched fingertips. “This one?”

            I nodded, trying to push down my grin. Anticipation vibrated through my entire body, turned my stomach into a bundle of knots. I watched, fingers tangled up in my lap.

            He ripped the paper off, balling it up and tossing it into the floor beside him. Underneath was a plain white box with a folding lid. He slid his finger beneath the flap, popped it open. Reaching inside, he rifled through the white tissue paper for the gift underneath.

            It came out in his hands. He looked at it for a long while before he said anything.

~~~~~~

            Dean and Roman sat across the table, taking their time with the dinner Seth and I had cooked together. The house in Davenport felt warm and inviting, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla in the air. It was the tail end of December, and we were celebrating a rare day off with the three of us together.

            “It means a lot that you guys stopped over,” I said, leaning against the edge of the table and reaching for a piece of garlic bread. “I know how much you want to go home.”

            “Renee is visiting some friends in Toronto. She even took Blue. I’d be all by myself in Vegas.” Dean grinned, stuffing a full fork of spaghetti into his mouth.

            “You got a little…” Seth said, waving his finger at his own chin. I glanced over, saw tomato sauce bright against Dean’s ginger beard. I couldn’t help but laugh.

            Roman leaned back in his chair, a faint smile on his face. Ever since he’d walked in, he’d been looking at me strangely. There was something questioning in his black eyes. “You look happy, _itiiti_.”

            I shrugged. “I’m back on my feet again. You guys are here. It’s Christmas. Why shouldn’t I be happy?”

            His smile got a little bigger. “Any other reason you might be happy?”

            I looked over at Seth, who had a bemused expression. “Don’t look at me! I didn’t say anything.”  
            “You didn’t need to,” Roman replied. “It’s not that hard to tell if you know what you’re looking for.”

            Dean watched the conversation like a tennis match. “What the hell are we talking about?”

            Seth grinned and got up from the table. He kissed the top of my head before he walked a few feet away to pick up the white box from his present. Rejoining us, he sat it on the middle of the table and pushed it toward the other Hounds.

            Roman looked over at Dean. “You do the honors.”

            My former tag partner pulled the box close, prying the lid open. The little piece of white fabric came out in his hand. Dean held it up, looking as if he couldn’t tell what he was looking at.

            “No shit!” he shouted, looking up at the two of us.

            Seth took my hand, lacing our fingers together. His face was lit up with a smile brighter than anything I’d ever seen. I couldn’t help but smile back.

            “Boy or girl?” Roman asked matter of factly.


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 83

_(GIF owned by angry-puppy on Tumblr)_

            Stephanie dropped into a chair next to me at the bank of monitors. She wasn’t scheduled to be on television that night, so she looked a little more comfortable in a pair of jeans and a flowing blouse. There was a smile on her face as she gave me a once over.

            “How are you feeling?”

            I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the monitor. Dean and Roman were in the middle of a tag team match against Baron Corbin and Bobby Lashley. “Not a whole lot of problems in the leg anymore. I still have to wear the brace a few hours every day, but I’m back to moving like before.”

            “Llane…” she said, a bemused tone to her voice. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

            A split second to look. A faint smile. The drifting of my hand over my swelling stomach. My head dropped as I turned away from my boss. And my friend.

            “I’m going to kill Dean,” I murmured frustratedly.

            Stephanie let out a laugh the likes of which I’d never heard before. The smile on her face got wider in a way that was different from the sneaky bitch she often portrayed on camera. She leaned toward me, her elbows on the table.

            “Dean didn’t say anything. Neither did Seth or Roman.” She bumped her shoulder into mine. “I’ve had three kids, you know. It isn’t hard to figure out.”

            I blushed and looked away, just in time to see Roman deliver a heavy spear to Lashley. The excitement that ran through me was barely containable. I let out a little squeal of approval and grinned.

            “Ro said the same thing. He had it figured out before Seth and I said a word.”

            Stephanie gave me a little squeeze before standing up. “If you need anything, let us know. That’s what we’re here for.”

~~~~~~~~

            I never ceased to be surprised how packed _392 d-port_ could be, especially at 2 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Since I couldn’t do much training at Black and Brave anymore, I’d taken to hanging out at the coffee shop on our days back at home. It gave me time to get to know the regulars—the people who came in and spent their hard-earned money on coffee either because they loved it or they loved Seth, sometimes both. I also got a chance to meet with the staff, many of whom were local college students or teens with their first afternoon or weekend job. Every single one of them was a sweetheart, and they all worked desperately hard to make the place a success.

            “Your usual,” Kiera said as she slid my tumbler across the counter. “Extra whip, no foam.”

            Grinning, I thanked her and headed over to one of the couches that had been set in front of a big screen television. At the moment, it was playing a highlight reel on ESPN, but sooner or later it would get changed over to one of the family friendly sitcoms on syndication. When afterschool time hit, students from the nearby high school would end up sprawled out on the sofas or crowding around tables to do projects and homework. Seth loved it, and so did I.

            A dull tone. Vibration against my hip. I dug my phone out of my pocket, flipping it over to see who it was. Roman’s face lit up the screen.

            “ _Alofa pele, uso,_ ” I said. _Hello, brother._

            Roman’s deep laugh spilled through the speaker. “You’re getting better.” Just the sound of his voice was enough to make me feel as if I’d been bundled up in front of a warm fire. “How are you feeling?”

            A corner of my mouth curled up in a grin. “I’m fine. No problems. Not with the baby or with the leg. Everything is good.”

            He let out a relieved sigh. “Good. Good. You know I worry about you, _itiiti_.”

            I took a sip of my coffee and sank further into the overstuffed sofa. “I know that, Ro. And you know how much it means to me. All three of you.”

            “Rollins better be worrying about you. He’s the one who knocked you up in the first place.”

            I laughed, the sound echoing off the high ceilings of the building. “I expected Dean to say something like that. Not you.”

            Silence. Yet in my mind, I knew exactly what expression Roman wore at that moment. A little bit of a grin, one brow raised, accompanied by a full shoulder shrug. It was something like indulgent exasperation.

            “I called to give you a heads up about Ambrose.”

            Something icy settled into my chest. I sat up, anxiety running over my skin like electricity. “What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing!” he responded quickly. “Nothing’s wrong. He’s fine. Renee’s fine. They’re just plotting.”

            It felt like my heart was pounding a thousand miles a minute. I couldn’t catch my breath. “Don’t _fucking_ do that, Ro.”

            “I’m sorry. Seriously. I’m sorry I scared you.” He paused for a moment, giving me time to settle my heart. “They’re just planning a surprise baby shower for the two of you. I know you’re not much for surprises—even though it is just going to be people from the roster, nobody you don’t know.”

            I sat my coffee on the little table in front of me, pressed my free hand to my forehead. My fingers worked at the ache that had suddenly settled in my temples. “Of course he is. Because that’s what Dean does.”

            “It’s only because he loves you.”

            “I know.” I was suddenly overcome with the urge to go home and crawl back into bed. “Thanks for the warning, Ro.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Seth tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair. The soles of his shoes squeaked against the linoleum. His breath was loud in the near silence.

            “Can you relax?” I requested, leaning back against the pillows. “Everything is fine.”

            His chocolate eyes bored into me. “How can you say everything is fine while you’re sitting in a hospital bed? I’m fucking sick of seeing you in them.”

            I closed my eyes, fought back the burning that heralded tears. _Calm_ , I thought. _The doctor said I have to stay calm._ A few deep breaths before turning to look out the window. “I’m just resting, Colby. My blood pressure is just a little high. That’s all.”

            He leaned forward, planting his elbows on his knees. His fists came to rest beneath his chin. For a moment, it looked like he was going to say something. Instead, he let out a long, deep sigh and ran his hand over his beard.

            I held out my hand, wiggled my fingers to get his attention. “C’mere,” I said gently. When he didn’t move, I spoke again. “Come here. Please.”

            Seth got to his feet, dragged the chair behind him until he was at my bedside. He plopped down into it before he clasped my hand in both of his. Warmth slipped around me; electricity sizzled along my nerves. There was a strength in his fingers that belied a gentleness like nothing I’d ever known.

            “I know you’re worried. And I know it comes from a place of love. You always want to take care of me, and I am so grateful for you, Seth. I love you,” I whispered, leaning over to press a kiss to his roughed knuckles. “I’m scared, too. But we can do this together. Even if I have to stay home on bedrest for a while, we’re in this—both of us.”

            He reached out one hand, ran fingers through my hair, tucked it behind my ear. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Either of you.”

            My heart skipped a beat. A reminder that there was more than just the two of us. I sighed softly. “And nothing will. Because you’re here.”

            “I always will be.”


	84. Chapter 84

Chapter 84

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            The dress was a little tighter than I liked, but there wasn’t much to do about it. Hannah had been careful enough when she’d laced it up so that I could breathe. That was a feat in itself—with my big belly and the ever-present fear of my blood pressure going too high. My heart hammered against my ribs, a rabid flush taking over from my collarbones to my hairline.

            “Relax, love,” Becky said as she fanned my face with a magazine. “It’s all good. Everythin’ is gonna be jus’ fine.”

            I smiled at her, feeling a rush of appreciation for her friendship. “I think we’ve done this all out of order, Becks.”

            She laughed. “Doesna matter. You love ‘im an’ he loves you. Tha’s wha’s impor’ant.”

            There was a knock on the door. Hannah was busy ensuring that all the laces were just right. Becky was doing her best trying to keep me calm. A splash of panic hit my blood.

            “Who is it?” I called.

            “Just us, dollface,” Dean’s voice replied.

            “Who’s us?”

            Muffled noise. Something that sounded like a thump. An _oof_ followed by a chuckle.

            “Me and the other two idiots of yours.” A split second of confusion. Recognition like an atom bomb.

            “Come on in!”

            The door swung open, revealing Renee in an adorable grey wrap skirt with a turquoise studded belt and a gauzy white top. Behind her came Dean and Roman, both of them dressed in pressed suits with pocket squares of an opalescent shade of pink. They smiled as they slipped inside, ensuring the door shut behind them.

            “You look beautiful,” Renee said, taking my fingers in hers and giving them a squeeze. She glanced back at her husband with a grin. “Seth is going to cry.”

            “He better, or we’ll slap him until he does.” Dean cracked his knuckles, tried to give me a grimace like the one he usually wore in the ring.

            I laughed, one hand pressed to my stomach. For a heartbeat, I let myself revel in memories of being with him, the ropes against my back, the sound of his voice in my ear, cheering me on as I chased every dream I’d ever had. As much as I loved and adored Seth, I couldn’t imagine my life without Dean Ambrose. He’d saved my life in a thousand different ways.

            “I have a secret,” I said, leaning toward the three of them. “I’m telling Seth today, but I want you to know too.”

            Roman’s dark eyes sparkled as a smile spread over his face. He moved to stand to one side of me, his warm hand settled on my shoulder blade. Renee swept in to the other side, looping her arm through mine. Dean took up a place in front of me, a sense of laughter in his blue eyes. He picked up my free hand and squeezed.

            I swept my gaze between the three of them, feeling an explosion of happiness and peace wrapping around me like a warm blanket. A deep breath. The knowledge that I would never be alone.

            “It’s a girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Carl smiled as he held out his arm for me to take. He dabbed a handkerchief beneath my eyes, careful not to smudge my makeup. “Your mother and I have a surprise for you.”

            “What did you do?”

            He just gave a winking smile and led me toward the doors of the venue. I pinched at his sleeve, trying to get him to tell me what they’d contrived, but he just fussed over my bouquet and looked down to make sure that he wasn’t stepping on my dress.

            Music swelled through the doors. I looked to my foster father, the man who had taken me in and treated me like his flesh and blood. He kissed the side of my head and kept me steady as the doors swept open.

            People stood lined on either side of the aisle. A white silk runner ran up toward the front of the room, every few steps of it dotted with pale pink flower petals. I could see the canopy of gauzy material at the front of the room, knew that was where the officiant and Seth stood waiting for me.

            I gasped when I saw what my foster parents—my only real parents—had done. Tears blurred my vision. “Oh, Daddy…”

            A third of the way up the aisle stood Roman. His arms were crossed, hands clasped together. His wedding band glinted dark on his finger. A smile warmer than any sunny island day beamed on his face. He had his back to the rest of the room, his dark eyes fixed just on me.

            Carl guided me slowly into the room, our measured steps in time to the music. My heart chugged in my chest. It ached in the most wonderful way. When we stood at last in front of Roman, Carl drew me carefully into his arms and hugged me tightly.

            “May I, _itiiti?_ ” Roman asked as he held out his hand.

            With a sniffle, I took it. There was nothing in the world but radiant warmth and this man who was my brother and my center.

            Roman stepped into place beside me. “Head up, little sister,” he whispered as he gestured further down the aisle. Instead of seeing Seth at the front of the room, I saw Dean. He was just ahead, stationed halfway between Roman and the altar. Twinkling blue eyes and a trouble-filled grin.

            We moved down the aisle further, Roman smiling down at me as he kept me going forward. I was grateful for his steady strength and friendship. I doubted that Carl could have made a greater sacrifice for me on this day than this—letting two of the most important people in my life walk me toward my husband in his place.

            Dean leaned in and pressed his forehead gently against my own as he took up a place on my other side. I looked down at my bouquet, wishing that I had a free hand to join with Dean’s. A blonde head appeared around Dean’s shoulder, hand held out for the flowers. Renee grinned.

            “I’ll keep them safe for you,” she whispered.

            I smiled gratefully, barely able to see her through the rising tears. Dean slipped his hand into mine, his grip reassuring and firm. The unpredictable buzz that was Dean Ambrose wound in with the sense of ocean breeze and waves. It was only right that he was there, leading me in to my future.

            After all, he was my rock, my haven amid every storm. He was the earth beneath my feet, the surest foundation I’d ever known.

            At last… at long last… I saw him.

            He stood beneath the canopy of material; his hair tied back into a knot low at the back of his neck and wearing a perfectly cut suit. I knew the very instant that he saw me. There was a faint intake of his breath, a widening of his beautiful chocolate eyes, a straightening of his spine. With every step closer, I saw the tears start to slip down his cheeks. He lifted his hand, swiped his thumb beneath his eyes.

            We came to the end of the aisle—Roman on one side of me, Dean on the other. They gave my hands a firm, reassuring squeeze before leaning over and planting a kiss on each of my temples. Roman murmured something softly in Samoan. Dean smiled.

            “You’re one of us, dollface. And that’s never gonna change.”

            The two of them stepped to the side. Seth took a breath and moved toward me. Warmth and buzzing energy settled into my skin, electricity now buzzing along with it. His roughened fingers came up, cupped my face tenderly.

            “There were times I never thought this moment would happen,” he murmured. “Now that it has, I can’t believe my luck.”

            I grinned, my hands settled against his wrists. “Am I going to be Mrs. Lopez? Or will it be Rollins? Black?”


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter 85

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            Exhaustion. An overwhelming sense of being wrung out. Every ounce of energy spilled into a pool on the floor like sweat.

            “You did so great,” Seth said from beside me. His hand was still caught up in mine, blue paper surgical gown and cap visible through my drained haze. “I’m so proud of you. Llane… Sophie… the whole lot of you.”

            I felt my lips curve in a smile. Seth stroked his free hand through my hair, pushing the sweat-soaked strands back over my forehead. It was only his presence that had helped me get through the entire night—the pain and the fear and the deep-rooted terror that something would go wrong and both of us would wink out of existence.

            “Is she…” My brain was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t think straight. Just speaking took more energy than I could spare.

            He pressed a kiss against my brow. “She’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes. Screams like a banshee. Beautiful. She’s absolutely perfect.”

            Something rose up out of the corner of my eye. A nurse wrapped up in the same blue gown as Seth. Wriggling blankets in her arms. Heavy little body settled atop my chest, a warm cheek nestling against my breast, perfectly formed fingers opening and closing until they caught hold of Seth’s thumb.

            _Our_ daughter.

            Healthy.

            Here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            I sat up in the hospital bed, pillows tucked in all around me, one propping up the arm that cradled my newborn daughter. She suckled lazily, somehow halfway between hungry and asleep. I couldn’t help but stare at the curve of her cheeks, the perfect bow of her mouth, her lush eyelashes and the wisps of black hair that curled against her neck. I fell in love with the rings around her wrists and her chubby legs, the softness of her skin, the dark brown of her eyes that looked so much like Seth’s.

            Her suckling gave way to faint open-mouthed breathing as she drifted off into a nap. _Being born is hard work_ , I thought as I tugged my gown back up over my breast. She nuzzled against the fabric just as a head popped around the door.

            Seth beamed as he slipped into the room. He’d done a quick run back to the house to pick up some forgotten things and take a shower. I smiled at his presence, feeling happy and contented.

            “She just went to sleep,” I whispered. “Are they here yet?”

            He nodded as he leaned over to give me a tender kiss. “They’ve been here for an hour. I told them to come on in when they got here, but they wanted to let you rest.”

            I rolled my eyes. “Tell them to get back here. It’s time they met their goddaughter.”

            Seth drew his phone out of his pocket, tapping a message out quickly. It was only a few moments later when the door swung open carefully, four people piling into the room on tiptoe. The ever-present crackle of electricity was joined by a buzz of frenetic energy and sunlight heat. Flashes of blonde and red lurked behind the bulk of the other two Hounds.

            “Hi,” I said gently, looking up at Dean and Roman for the first time in what felt like months. In fact, it had only been a few weeks. But they were such a part of me that too much time away from them made me miserable after a while.

            Roman smiled in a way that made me feel perfectly safe. “Hey, _itiiti_. How you feel?”

            “Exhausted. Sore.” My eyes drifted to my sleeping daughter. “But it was worth every second of it.”

            I felt Dean settle his hand on my ankle. I grinned brightly. “I… we have a favor to ask you guys. All four of you.”

            “Anything you need, dollface,” he replied. His blue eyes bounced back and forth between me and the sleeping bundle in my arms. Renee slipped her hand into his.

            “Will you be godparents?” I asked quietly.

            Roman brushed his thumb against my cheek. “You don’t have to ask. You know we will.”

            “Damn right,” Dean added enthusiastically. “She’s one of ours now, too. Just like you are. One more member of the pack, right, Ro?”

            “Wha’ name ya callin’ ‘er?” Becky asked from the end of the bed.

            Seth and I glanced at one another. He was the first one to speak. “We’ve talked about a few, but couldn’t decide. She’s getting my last name—not my ring name but Lopez. As far as other names… we can’t settle on anything.”

            “Help us out, godparents?” I begged, a faint whine in my voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Jesus Christ!” Seth swore as he leapt forward to slow the swing that lulled our daughter to sleep.

            “Relax,” Roman soothed from his spot not far away. He sat leaned up against the sofa with his long legs stretched out in front of him. “It’s fine. Those things only go that fast. And trust me, it’s better that than burning gas in the car driving around the block for an hour.”

            I sat on the sofa with my laptop putting the finishing touches on the cards that would be going out to announce her birth. It had been Renee’s idea. She’d helped me pick out backgrounds and fonts and the pictures of our baby girl that would go on the card.

            A small smile ghosted over my lips as I finished typing out her name.

            _Iosefina Dakota Quinn Lopez._

            “It’s going to be so fun writing that on every single form for the rest of her life. Did we go overboard?” I asked as I made sure that the image had been saved and successfully sent off to the printers.

            “Leave it to Becky to name our daughter after herself,” Seth laughed. He reached out and tickled our daughter’s tummy. “But I think it all fits her perfectly. What do you think, Sefina?”

            Watching him as he talked to her, tickled her, tugged playfully on her little toes, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of love for Seth. He had fallen into the role of dad with a gusto that surprised me. It shouldn’t have, knowing how carefully and gingerly he’d taken care of me when I needed him.

            Then there was Dean, who had filled the nursery with dozens of stuffed animals and gifts and toys that she wouldn’t have a use for until she was three. The first day we’d brought Sefina home, he and Renee had stopped by with an envelope of paperwork that said they had put sixty thousand dollars into a trust for her—thirty thousand each. By the time she got it at eighteen, it would be worth over seventy-five thousand.

            I broke down in tears in the kitchen when they gave it to me. Begged them to take their money back. That we had enough—more than enough—to make sure she had everything she’d ever need.

            “Take it, dollface,” Dean said as he drew me into a hug. “It was Renee’s idea anyway. And it’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

            Roman was more than just a godfather for Sefina. He was an uncle, a big brother, a guardian in a way that I could never have imagined for my daughter. When we’d finally named her, Roman had taken her in his arms and whispered in his lilting Samoan—the words carrying the faint scent of saltwater and a sun-warmed breeze. It was a beautiful blessing—a promise that she would always be cared for and protected, that she would have a family that stretched beyond the walls of the house in Davenport.

            I closed my laptop and leaned my head against Dean’s shoulder as he sat next to me. Roman had taken Sefina out of the swinging bassinet and tucked her against his broad shoulder. She splayed her little fingers over his tattooed bicep and snuggled into the crook of his neck, drool collecting in the corner of her rosebud mouth.

            “Better feed Momma now,” Dean said lazily. “We’re all on our little princess’s schedule now. When she wakes up, she’s gonna be hungry.”


	86. Chapter 86

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end of HOJ. I hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have.

Chapter 86

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            _Five…_

_Four…_

_Three…_

_Two…_

_One…_

The loud sound of a buzzer.

            The noise was deafening. They didn’t tell you that at the Performance Center. It was a maniacal kind of noise, one that made your head buzz and the blood rush around your veins like some kind of drug. People were screaming—shouting, whooping, booing, cursing. The music blared louder than anything at Full Sail, the lights flashing in a way that almost made me dizzy.

            A rush of adrenaline. Feeling power sing in my muscles. A single moment—eyes closed, breathing in the scent of poster board, markers, open air. Letting the excitement of the night sink into my memory.

            My heart burst when the realization finally spread through the arena. Number 27 wasn’t a bad entry in the Royal Rumble. Particularly when it was the result of an airtight secret that absolutely no one knew about.

            The Hounds were backstage, all three getting ready for their matches. Roman was in the men’s rumble later. Dean was fighting Braun Strowman in a rematch to win back the Universal Title. Seth was going after Drew and the Intercontinental Title again. Me… I didn’t care whether I won or lost. I was just glad to be where I was supposed to be.

            I bounced, shaking out my arms before I took off at a run down the ramp. There were at least eight other women in the ring and another three or four out on the floor taking a breather, biding their time before they went back for the big win.

            I slid beneath the bottom rope like I hadn’t been out for almost three years. Of course, I’d been training with Seth at Black and Brave for the last few months to get back into shape.

            On my feet. Scan the remaining women. _Who’s easiest to take out_?

            A scream, high pitched and ear shattering. Carmella was hanging on the top rope for dear life as Asuka tried to tip her over. I ran over, lent a hand by prying Carmella’s fingers open. She hit the floor with a thud and another frustrated squeal. For a moment, Asuka and I looked at one another. Then we flew into motion.

            Peyton Royce was coming up behind Asuka. I twisted around the shorter woman so that we stood back-to-back. “On three,” she whispered. I remembered this move, I’d done it a thousand times. But somehow I was still afraid that I would botch it. That something would go wrong.

            Behind me, Asuka counted. When she hit three, we locked arms. She leaned forward, taking some of my weight as I lifted my feet from the ground and kicked Royce square in the shoulders. She staggered back, bounced against the ropes, and flipped over the top. The whole thing took a second or more before my feet were planted on the mat once more, letting Asuka repeat the move on the other side.

            With a nod at one another, we darted to opposite sides of the ring, joining into melees that tried to get stronger women or more threatening ones over the rope before they could do the same to us. Nia went over with the help of four other women. It took three of us to get Natty out. Behind me, I heard a string of angry Japanese. When I looked back, Asuka was standing on the outside of the ring, glaring.

            Naomi came out at number 28. Ember Moon at 29. Alexa Bliss at 30.

            By the time Alexa was in the ring, there were only three of us left. The final four as it were.

            A long moment. One in each corner of the ring, staring at the others. Panting to catch a breath. Calculating what to do next.

            A flurry of movement suddenly filled the ring. Fists and feet flew. Hair whipping around like the swirling winds of a tornado. I found myself planted on my back near the corner, Naomi above me setting up her split-legged moonsault. I whimpered as I tried to scoot out of the way. Soreness was already seeping in, running down my spine and wrapping around my leg.

            I pulled myself up by the ropes, shaking off the pins and needles that prickled along my knee. It happened sometimes. Nothing to worry about, to be expected according to the doctor who cleared me.

            Naomi flipped over, landing in a roll toward the other side of the ring. She ended up bowling into Ember, who had been tossed over the top but caught herself on the apron. The thump into her legs pushed her the rest of the way. Her feet hit the floor.

            Then there were three.

            I sized the two of them up. Knew that if it came to it, I could beat Alexa much easier than I could Naomi. A glance at the blonde. A single knowing look.

            As one, Alexa and I dove for Naomi. We laid into her with a dozen blows, backing her into the corner, doing our best to get her center of gravity shifted. She leaned back against the ropes. I grabbed for her legs. Alexa went for the shoulders.

            Naomi tried to land just right, to keep one foot off the floor so she was still in. But this time it didn’t matter. She rolled into the barrier, both feet smacking into the mat when she came to a stop.

            Just two left.

            Alexa and I faced off in the center of the ring.

            My heart thumped in my chest. Aching with longing for that rush of excitement that came from winning. Being here, in this moment after everything that had stood in my way, it was one of the greatest days of my career. The pop of the crowd, the voices screaming my name, shouting for me, for the Hounds, the Shield.

            I let out a roar that echoed into the night. Without a thought, I ran at Alexa, my feet leaving the mat a second before my arms landed around her waist, slamming into her until she nearly folded in two. We hit the canvas together, Alexa gasping for breath, me with my blood roaring in my ears.

            Alexa dragged herself to her feet, keeping a watchful eye on me. She stood in the opposite corner panting for a long moment. She wiped at her lip, looked down at it as if surprised to see blood. I smirked.

            She screamed in rage and barreled right at me. Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion. I gripped the top rope with both hands, counted her steps… _one… two…_ then let my feet fall out from beneath me. My weight dragged the top rope down as Alexa ran into the spot where I had just been. Instead of hitting me, she flipped over the top rope.

            And landed feet first on the floor outside.

            The crowd let out a scream the likes of which I’d never heard. I looked around the ring, suddenly surprised to find myself the lone survivor. A referee rolled into the ring, took my arm, held it up above his head.

            Other sounds began to filter in. Heavy boots on a steel ramp. A chant through the crowd… _Shield… Shield… Shield…_

            In an instant, I was swept up into Dean’s arms. He yelled in my ear, picked me up and swung me until I thought I was going to be sick. A second later I was passed off to Roman who cupped my face in his hands and pressed a kiss to my sweaty hair. He hugged me tightly, enveloping me in warmth and peace.

            Then there was Seth… who grinned at me as if he had never been prouder of anything in his life. He wrapped me up tightly in his arms, kissed me soundly in a way that he’d never done on camera before. The crowd lost their minds. I almost did too.

            From ringside, I heard JoJo’s voice. “Ladies and Gentlemen, your Women’s Royal Rumble winner and guaranteed a title match at Wrestlemania… _Llane Black_.”

            I was going to Wrestlemania…

            I was going to win…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            And I did.


End file.
